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sugrhigh · 6 months

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BOY NEXT DOOR 5 - ( c.s )

part four

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- cursing, kinda fluffy in the beginning, smutty smut at the end (YEP U READ THAT RIGHT FOLKS)

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: HIIII i apologize for the wait!!! part five is here and boy is she something, she’s long asf and i hope you love <3 if i forgot to tag you i am so so sorry, leave me a comment and i’ll absolutely fix it! my inbox is open for u guys always

@fawnchives @teapartyprincess4two @l9vesick @55sturn @mattinside @sturnioloco @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @breeloveschris @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @luckistar-posts @angelworldspost @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @hearts4chris @rubyjaneaxx @reallykaz @sturnlvrs @neatcarrot767 @stonermattsgf @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @reallykaz @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts

trying to push chris away, especially after the party, might possibly be the hardest task you’ve ever faced. he’s relentless in trying to get your attention, and the bruise he left on your neck is a fading reminder of your prior weakness.

he’s been teasing you endlessly for the past four days; working out in front of his window with the music blaring, making sure he’s always shirtless, texting you at least once a day just to flirt.

and it’s slowly chipping away at your self-defense, as pathetic as it makes you feel. you don’t want to give in to your stupid fucking temptations, but it’s so hard not to.

not to mention cassidy and ramona have been prying about him every few hours, trying to see how this is all going to play out. you wish you knew, but you don't.

you’re straddling the fence of hatred and lust now, still unsure where you stand.

your internal struggle to forget about him has haunted you, and it weighs on your shoulders now as you sit criss-cross in bed, trying to focus on starting your essay.

your phone vibrates, facedown beside you, and you presume that it’s the very person you’re trying to ignore.

you’re correct, of course.

chris

let me take you out

you haven’t been responding to him, but this text catches you by surprise, just enough to type out an actual answer.

y/n

you go to set the device back down when it pings again in your hand. you flip it in your palm, letting the screen light up.

chris

ok then let me eat you out

your stomach flips, and you instinctively glance out your window to your left. chris is grinning at you from ear to ear, freshly showered and (of course) shirtless after practice. he’s also sitting in bed, legs hanging off the side as his gray sweats bunch up around his waist.

y/n

no.

you’re a creep

chris

you love it when i talk to you like that

you look back up from your messages to flip him off. he tilts his head back, and you imagine hearing his loud laughter as if you were right there with him.

y/n

you think walking around without a shirt on is winning me over?

chris

maybe a little?

y/n

think again pretty boy

he pouts just a bit before standing up, waving a hand to indicate you should meet him at the window. you listen, wedging the pane upwards so the chilly january air hits you right in the face.

the sun has set now, so chris is backlit by the light of his room as he stares at you, placing his palms on the windowsill so he can casually lean out into the night.

“what do you want?” you spit, wrapping your arms around yourself to fight the cold.

“i can’t talk to my favorite girl?” he smirks, breath fogging up slightly in front of him.

you don’t know why he won’t put on a fucking shirt, even in the freezing atmosphere. his body certainly isn’t bad to look at, but you’re too stubborn to ever say it, especially when he’s so smug.

“no, you can’t. what do you want?” you twirl your finger, as if to tell him to get on with it.

“i want to hang out.” chris reiterates in a serious tone.

you roll your eyes before you can think twice about it, because it still sounds so stupid coming out of his mouth. “yeah, right.”

“i mean it. no funny business. unless you want that, of course.” he says, still toying with you even when he’s supposedly being genuine.

you shake your head, blowing out a long breath of exasperation. but the curiosity takes over, and you have to admit you’re a little intrigued.

“what could you possibly have in mind?”

thirty minutes later you’re back inside the hockey arena, a pair of skates dangling in one hand as you follow chris down the walkway toward the player bench.

it’s quiet, since it’s the beginning of the week and nobody is allowed on the college team’s ice aside from players. he had even chatted up one of the employees, which just helped secure you your time to goof off alone.

you had no idea that this was where he was taking you, because he insisted on it being a surprise and made you keep your eyes closed for the entire drive, but the revelation ended up being far more pleasant than you expected.

you actually used to love going ice skating as a kid, probably because you adored watching hockey and figuring skating so much. it’s been a while, and you know you’ll look terrible next to chris, but you don’t really mind.

he leads the way and sits down, jamming his feet into his hockey skates. then he uses his newly freed hand to wave you over, which makes you realize that you’ve been standing around like an NPC.

“come on, don’t be shy. i’ll lace you up.”

it’s not really an offer, because the second you plop down beside him he’s on one knee, taking the skates out of your hands gently. he doesn’t even give you time to yell at him for the dumb nickname.

“i can do it myself, you know.” you protest as he slides one of your sneakers off, replacing it and guiding your foot into one of the skates.

“that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly now would it?” he looks up at you through his fluffy brown hair, a silly grin playing on his lips.

“oh, i wasn’t aware i was in the presence of a gentleman.” you tease, looking around like you’re searching for whoever he’s talking about.

chris just repeats his actions with your other foot, careful to move you softly as he slips the other skate on. “i wouldn’t talk shit before we get on the ice, you know.”

“please, i’ll skate circles around you.”

it’s an empty threat and he knows it, because he chuckles as he ties his own laces fluidly before using your knees to push himself off the ground.

“then how about you get out there and show me?” chris challenges, extending his hand to you.

“let’s do it.” you take it without thinking, and you hate that it was just a natural reaction.

you hate wanting to hold it, and the fact that you don’t feel disgusted.

chris pulls you up and waits until you’re fully steady before he starts tugging you along in excitement.

he lets go once he opens the small door to the ice, skating out to the middle and doing a little spin around the BU emblem just to show off. but it’s actually endearing to see him so in his element, so passionate about something.

“care to join?” he invites, and you suck in a breath before stepping out onto the ice.

you’re a little wobbly at first, awkwardly skating along and trying to make sure your knees don’t buckle before you even get to him. you’re also approaching with a bit too much momentum, and you fumble against his hard chest.

but chris just wraps his arms around you without comment, ensuring that you don’t fall flat on your ass.

he likes having you this close to him, even in a non-sexual way. sure, he’s insanely attracted to you, but he’s also found that he just likes your company, as sappy and scary as that is to him.

“oops.” you mumble into his sweatshirt, which has the familiar smell of his cologne on it, before you unravel yourself from his arms.

“you look like a baby deer trying to walk.” chris jokes with a wide smile, letting his fingers slip from your body so you can actually move around.

“shut up.” you sock his chest lightly with your fist.

he chuckles, holding a hand to the spot you hit as if you really hurt him. “hey, i’m just calling it like is it.”

“and i’m just warming up.” you argue, using one foot to propel yourself toward one end of the rink.

the more you skate around, the more confidence you gain in your ability, and the more comfortable you feel on your feet. chris follows you closely, moving with such rhythm that it almost looks like he’s floating.

“sure you are.” he drags out the ‘e’ for emphasis, doing a few little laps around you as you continue getting used to it.

“well you’re certainly not helping, you ass.” you grumble, staring down at your feet in focus.

and then you feel yourself trip up slightly, and your arms immediately fly out as you attempt to steady yourself. but you’re flailing, and chris can see the panic cross your face.

but before you tumble, he skates up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist so you can lean your weight back. his body stops you from toppling, and your heart slams hard and fast in your chest from the fright.

“careful, baby.” he says into your hair.

it sends little chills running up and down your spine, and you’re too nervous to tilt your head to look at him. you know how close his face would be if you did.

chris isn’t even sure himself why he said that, how he let the entirely new pet name slip, because he doesn’t use it with anyone. not with his brief past “girlfriends” or flings, not even with you. but now he is, and it rolled off of his tongue so easily that he feels sick.

“that’s a new one.” you practically pant, short of breath from both the near-fall and his words.

a volcano of butterflies is erupting in your stomach, and you know that’s not from the previous scare. it’s fully because of him.

fuck.

“wanna try a spin?” he deflects masterfully, and this spurs you out of your slight stupor enough to straighten up and glide away from him.

“fine, but you’re not allowed to make fun of me.”

“no promises.”

for the rest of the time spent at the rink, chris tries to keep his usual unserious demeanor going, but something has shifted, despite how minuscule the comment was. you’re both unknowingly still thinking about it on the car ride home, each wondering how the other feels.

even the goodbye is strange. he pulls you in for a quick side hug before darting back to his house, leaving you standing all alone in his driveway wondering what changed.

you sigh and turn to head back up your own front steps, slipping inside as quietly as possible even though you know cass and mona are busy in their rooms studying for upcoming exams.

it’s just you and your thoughts as you climb the stairs to your room, gnawing on your bottom lip.

you wouldn’t have been so freaked out by the pet name if he hadn’t frozen up himself, but his reaction makes you wonder if he ever meant to use it in the first place.

and even if he didn’t, why did it seem like such a big deal? its not like he hasn’t used stupid nicknames with you before.

questions fill your brain as you shuffle into your bathroom, throwing the shower on and stripping before stepping into the warm water. the pressure feels good on your shoulders, and you try and rub out some of the tension in them.

chris has just been surprise after surprise recently. you’re seeing a different side to him, one that’s seemingly emotionally invested in you, and you don’t want to let yourself believe it.

believing in someone means you can actually get hurt.

you try and relax into the steam as you rinse your hair out and shave, though it only helps a little bit. by the time you turn the faucet off and step out, you’re still just as confused.

you wrap yourself in your plush towel, tucking it so it stays as up you pad back into your room.

a song that’s been stuck in your head all day falls softly from your lips as you pick through your dresser, grabbing a pair of underwear and sliding them on, letting the towel fall the the floor.

your back is to the window as you continue scanning the drawers for one particular shirt, which is apparently elusive tonight. you’re still unsuccessful even after rummaging through every drawer, and you’re just bending down to check your hamper when your phone buzzes against the wooden cabinet.

it makes you flinch, one hand flying to your bare chest as the other reaches for the device.

chris

give me permission to come over.

now.

your eyes dart to the window as you lunge to grab your towel off of the floor. you could have sworn you closed the curtains before getting into the shower, but when you look up you’re staring right at chris.

his eyes are dark as he watches you run over to the glass, towel barely covering you as you yank them closed. your heart is hammering in your chest, and you can feel yourself breaking out into a nervous sweat.

y/n

you were NOT supposed to see that

chris

well i did

let me come over

i’m fucking serious.

y/n

my roommates are home

and that was an accident

you scramble around and throw on the first sweatshirt you can find. you don’t care what you have on anymore, as long as it’s something.

chris

then come here

y/n

no it’s already late

chris

you have no idea what you just fucking did to me

if you don’t come over i’m coming there

it’s your choice.

the string of curses that escapes your mouth are anything but kind. you have no idea what to do or how to get him off this rampage, and you despise the way your stomach is flipping from his texts.

y/n

chris.

chris

pick or i will

y/n

fucking hell

i’m coming over

you quickly pull on a pair of joggers and jam your feet into your slippers, wringing your hair out one more time. you know if you don’t hurry, chris will take it upon himself to come over here, and that’s the last thing you want right now.

your insides twist as you make your way down to the main level, out the front door and across the lawn. the inside of your cheek is irritated from the way you’re biting down on it every other second.

it’s ominously quiet tonight, and even though it’s the middle of winter, your body is on fire as if it’s a hundred degrees.

at this point, you’re not throwing caution to the wind anymore; you’re burying it in a grave.

your knuckles rap against his front door moments later. it only takes seconds for it to open, and chris tugs you inside instantly, slamming it closed behind you afterwards.

it’s not long before he has you backed against the foyer wall, his hands on either of your hips like he’s holding you there. his mouth captures yours roughly without warning, tongue gliding against your bottom lip.

there’s nothing slow or sweet about it; he’s desperate to feel every single inch of you.

chris had been mulling over his slip up in his room since you guys got home from the arena, nearly pulling his hair out just wondering what the hell his problem is.

and then he just happened to look over at your window, like he always does when he’s thinking about you, only to find you moving around in nothing but that tiny black thong.

seeing all of you exposed was like every wet dream he’s every had, and it nearly sent him over the edge right there. he needs you, in every single possible way, and there’s no use denying it anymore.

he’s practically devouring you, and you’re letting him because his lips are just so damn soft. you’re tired too, so tired of fighting your instincts, tired of fighting him.

he moves to your jawline, then to the base of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin lightly as he goes. it’s impossible to contain the light moan that escapes your mouth. chris wants to hear it over and over and over.

“nobody’s home tonight.” he mutters against your throat.

his voice is deep, muffled slightly against your body, and the vibrations combined with the feeling of the scruff of his beard makes you throb. he’s pressed against your thigh, also very clearly straining for more.

“upstairs?”

chris pulls away, a smirk playing on his lips. even in the dim lighting, you can see he’s extremely satisfied by your response.

his hand slips into yours for the second time today, pulling you toward his room impatiently. you know which door it is before he leads you through it, but its still the first time you’re seeing it from a view that’s not your window.

you recognize all of the posters, ranging from hockey stars to movies to rappers, his plush dark comforter, the gym equipment he has pushed in the corner. it’s weird, because you told yourself you’d never end up here.

before you can think more, chris pulls you to him by the waist once again, walking you backwards until your legs hit the bedframe. your knees buckle and a small gasp escapes as you fall back against the mattress.

he leans down to kiss you again swiftly, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and biting just hard enough. your fingers tangle in his soft hair so you can tug his roots.

he groans at the force, disconnecting from your lips slightly, and you see it as your opportunity.

“if we’re going to do this, we’re doing it my way.” you whisper against his mouth, trailing your hand down his body and wrapping it in his shirt so you can pull him into bed next to you.

before he can protest, you roll over to straddle him, thighs on either side of his hips. his eyes are wide in anticipation, clearly surprised by you taking charge.

“whatever you want, princess.” chris gives in, licking his lips as his hands grip the flesh of your legs like his life depends on.

“god, you’ve never sounded sexier.” you tease before you crash your mouth against his once more.

a few seconds later you switch your focus to his neck, deciding that you selfishly want to leave some hickies of your own. you suck on his skin, and a groan escapes his lips.

it spurs you on, so you rock your hips against his, grinding against his obvious hard on. his hands slide to grip your ass, giving one side a light slap as you shift against each other.

you grin against his lips, knowing that he’s becoming more and more desperate, trying to force you to move faster. but you still your hips, grinding at a tantalizingly slow pace.

chris moves one hand so his fingers can nimbly trace the bottom of your sweatshirt, pushing it up your body so he can tear it over your head. he releases a long breath as he stares at your full tits, happy that you didn’t end up finding a bra before coming over.

“fuck, i can’t do this anymore.”

he shifts, bucking his hips slightly so he can toss you off of him and crawl on top of you, trapping you between his arms.

“so impatient.” you joke, staring up at him with those gorgeous eyes he loves so much.

“been waiting way too long for you.” he breathes, hooking his thumbs underneath your pants.

you lift your hips up so he can tug them off your waist, sliding them down your legs and tossing them to his floor. his eyes wander across your body, finally able to completely take you in now that you’re right beneath him.

it makes you feel powerful, seeing the very obvious lust in his eyes as he stares at you.

“you’re fucking perfect, you know that?” chris asks, his fingers dancing across your neck so he can brush your damp hair aside.

the caress is gentle, and yet the weight of his words still makes you involuntarily clench your legs together. but he’s quick to push them back apart with his knee, forcing you to open up for him.

“don’t you dare hide now, i need to see all of you.”

he bows down between your legs so he can leave soft pecks along your collarbone, one hand groping your bare chest. you feel him creeping lower, mouth tracing down the valley of your breasts before pulling one of your nipples into his mouth.

you gasp in pleasure, and your hands tangle in his hair once more as your back arches off of the bed in need.

“oh my god, chris.” you whine, and he loves you gripping his curls.

he twitches against the inside of your thigh as his tongue flicks back and forth, so turned on by all the little noises you’re making. then he drags his wet lips over to your other hardened bud, ensuring he doesn’t neglect any part of you.

you squirm against his sheets, and the pressure of desire is quickly building in the pit of your stomach.

“feel good, baby?” he asks, confidently throwing the pet name out now.

chris doesn’t give a shit. as far as he’s concerned, you’re in his bed, and right now you’re his girl, so he’s going to call you whatever feels best in the moment. your head is so fuzzy with pleasure you don’t even pick up on it.

“so fucking good.” you encourage him desperately as he presses open-mouthed kisses along your stomach.

the further he goes, the more your gut twists itself into knots. it’s been a while since anyone has touched you like this, kissed you like this, and it’s got you needy as all hell.

finally, his mouth meets your hip bone, and another breathy moan passes your lips like a reflex.

he’s on his knees now, using both of his hands to pry your shaky legs apart, making sure he has full access to the place you need him most. his hot breath hits the wetness of your panties, and goosebumps rise on your skin.

“so desperate for me already, huh?” chris goads, applying two fingers to your clothed heat.

the pressure from his little circular motions makes you buck your hips, and he uses his free hand to try and still your movements. he’s spent far too many hours fantasizing about this moment to rush it. hes going to take his time with you.

“no, use your words, angel. tell me what you need or i’ll stop.”

it’s a demand, though he slides the black material to the side before you can even reply, just so there’s no longer a barrier between your heat and his touch. you’re dripping, and he swirls his fingers a bit harder, trying to get you to speak.

“more, chris, please.” you finally manage to beg, even though it drives you nuts being at his disposal.

“good girl, was that so hard?” chris hums, fully entranced by the pleasure that’s so apparent on your face.

one of his fingers teases your core for a few seconds before he fully slips it inside, pumping it in and out slowly. then he adds another and you’re practically writhing, unable to control your reactions any longer.

“shit.” you hiss, hands leaving his hair to grip his comforter, searching for any kind of relief.

chris curls his fingers every time he plunges them back inside of you, enjoying the way you tense every time. that being said, you’re both becoming more and more urgent, too desperate to continue the torment.

“need to feel you wrapped around me.” he grumbles, slowing his movements to a stop so he can yank his shirt over his head by the collar.

you’re pulsing from the loss of contact, already breathing heavy as you watch him slip out of his pants, taking his boxers with them. his dick springs free, and your mouth goes dry at the revelation.

he’s big, thick enough that you know you’re going to have to adjust. chris pumps himself in his hand a few times before running his shaft up and down your core, using your wetness as lube.

the feeling of his length sliding across your clit is almost unbearable, and by the way he’s panting you can tell he likes it just as much.

“no more teasing, i can’t.” you plead.

that’s enough to convince chris that he’s had his fun, so he fumbles with the drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a condom and tearing open the packet with his teeth.

he rolls the silicone over his dick before standing to line himself up at your entrance, taking a second to look down at you. your eyes are wide and your lips are puffy, and you’ve never looked more beautiful to him.

then he pushes himself inside, extra careful to take it slow at first. you both mumble curses under your breath, because the way he’s stretching you out is amazing and the feeling of your tight pussy gripping his sensitive cock is euphoric.

chris lets you adjust to his size for a minute before he begins to rock his hips back and forth, driving himself into you as he builds momentum. you clench around him with every stroke, and it’s making him feel fucking insane.

“taking me so well, baby, so fucking well.” he praises gruffly.

you reach up, tugging his chain lightly to indicate that you want him closer. chris leans down so his body is flush against yours as he shifts in and out, your fingers raking his back.

he presses a hard kiss to your mouth, one hand squeezing around your throat lightly. he prays to god he’s scratched up by the end of this, because he needs a physical reminder that this is real, that he’s not dreaming.

“harder, chris.” you whimper against him, wrapping your legs around his waist so you can force him to plunge deeper inside of you.

the switch in angle also means he’s hitting a brand new spot, and you feel your stomach tighten at the sensation. your eyes screw shut as you let out a lewd moan, digging your nails into his shoulder.

chris is using all of his strength to slam into you now, growing closer and closer to his high. he won’t be able to hang on much longer, especially when you’re beneath him with your eyes rolled back into your head, lips parted like you’re begging for more.

“i love the way you look when i'm inside you, holy shit.” he’s practically breathless as he says it, his skin slapping against yours.

his name falls repeatedly from your lips like a prayer, because it’s the only word you can even think of at this point. your foreheads are pressed together, and he slides his hand down so he can brush his fingers against your clit.

it’s so much stimulation that tears begin to prick your eyes, something that’s never happened to you before. nobody’s ever made you feel this good.

“fuck!—m’so close, don’t stop.” you cry out, and your whole body is convulsing now.

you feel chris twitch inside of you, an indication that he’s on the exact same path. he moves his fingers against you faster, though his strokes grow sloppier and more desperate by the second.

“come on, princess. let it all go.”

and for once in your life you listen to him without any push back, releasing all over his dick as he simultaneously finishes into the condom.

chris slows his movements to a stop, overstimulated and fucked out as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. he presses a few wet kisses to your skin as you regain your breath, enjoying the last few seconds of closeness before he pulls out.

he flops down beside you, both of you lying on your backs and staring up at the ceiling, chests heaving as you calm down. everything has changed in just the last four hours, and neither of you are quite sure what to say.

so you don’t say anything at all. he just discards the rubber and wraps you up in his sheets with a loopy smile, pulling you so your back is against his chest.

you can feel him breathing, feel the heat radiating from his body, and you decide that logical thinking will have to wait until tomorrow. tonight, you’ll stay in his arms.

#chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #hockey!chris #hockey!au #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets smut #fanfic #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #series

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atxxzist · 1 year

Text

the crown prince | c.s

summary: with the fall of the king, the kingdom of utopia rest on prince san's hand. but when bounties are put on his head as the consequence of his ancestors' actions, he realize there's a backlog of history to undo and a lot more to prove that he's deserving of being the rightful ruler

pairing: choi san x f!reader

genre: prince!san, commoner!y/n, medieval au, angst, fluff, suggestive

word count: 19k

(ao3) if you don't like lapslock

age 8:

you live in the fifth district, the poorest and most rundown of all districts, sitting at the bottom of the kingdom with a large body of water surrounding it.

the only remarkable thing about the place is the port that's often used for traveling in and out of the kingdom. other than that, rarely anyone from other districts would come down unless they want to be at risk of a flood--which always striked the district the hardest out of any others.

but even then, despite the limited portions of food your family has to survive on each day, or the hardrock wood mattress you guys have to sleep on that frequently gives your aging father back pain, life doesn't seem all that bad.

you still have your family and a roof over your head, and a mind too young and optimistic.

age 10:

just two years after, you soon find out how hard it really is for a kid living in the fifth district, and especially one without parents or someone to love and care for them.

the fishermen had said your parents fell overboard and their bodies couldn't be recovered.

you couldn't believe it at first that no one looked even the least concerned or urgent to search for your parents, but you soon learn that their lives are meaningless, and the people that threw you out after their death made sure you knew so is yours.

"ay, kid, we could leave you out here to die if we really want to," one of the tall, scary looking man says after your episode of protesting and crying starts to annoy him.

and easily like that, they both leave you in the orphanage that's already overcrowded with other children of similar circumstances.

you lose everything in one day; the house your father built from scratch, along with anything that's ever been handmade by your mother, it's all gone. they're both gone, and you feel yourself withering away with all the loss.

before the age of eleven, you become nothing more than a ward of the district and the responsibility to a bunch of strangers who probably doesn't care whether you live or die.

age 11:

it only takes a year for you to become almost nothing like the person you were once before who was cheerful and optimistic.

all of it beat out of you, watching every day as some of the children gets yelled at or punished for doing something so trivial, it desensitized you to the point you're no longer surprise to hear someone get told no one else would want them outside of the orphanage.

you don't talk to anyone or attempt to make any friends. you keep to yourself and would often read any books you could find or hunt for any sewing materials during the few time of the day they let you guys out.

age 12:

during dinner, you hear the group of kids sitting at the nearby table talk about the upcoming coronation of the prince.

"it's not even like we're gonna get to see it," one of the girls squeak, seemingly uninterested in the topic as she pokes her food because it's true.

events like that, especially any celebrations or gatherings are only reserved for those in the second and first districts, who are usually of noble and royal status. not nobodies like you guys down here living off of scraps and remnants.

"i want to see how the prince looks like," another boy adds with a mischievous tone.

you, too, want to see what the prince looks like, but you most likely never will. he won't come here and the chances of you going up there is damn near impossible, it might as well be good as a dream.

but all of the children agrees that he's the luckiest kid in the kingdom, and for that, they hate him for it.

age 13:

through the years, you've been watching as kids go and new ones would come in.

those that left were lucky to have gotten moved or adopted into a household that were willing to take them in, and you, like all the other kids in here, tired of the overcrowding and deteriorating state of the orphanage, hope that a kind family will one day swoop you away.

but it doesn't happen at age thirteen, and you continue to share a bunk with the same girl from three years ago who's been here longer than you.

age 14:

the states of the lower districts only seems to decline as you get older with the corrupted hierarchy and the rich taking all the resources for themselves.

for hundreds of years--you've learned, that it's always been bad, but everything's looking far worse than it has even four years ago.

but with the conditions in the lower three districts deteriorating, the citizens are growing more vocal, bitter, and resentful of those that resides in peace while everyone else is suffering.

the disparity not only made everyone despite the higher ups, but also each other as the stresses of the poor states get to them. and with you living in one of the three's, it made you harbor a hatred toward the top two districts as well, unable to see them past anything but greedy and power-hungry.

slanders of the royal family increased then. talks of overthrowing the king or starting a war for equal resources for all districts, and some even saying they'd rather swim across the ocean to reach kingdom aurora than to live in this "hellhole". but at the time, they were nothing but empty threats to make one feel better.

age 15:

you were so scared at first, hearing of all the horror stories told by the older, taunting kids who's gonna get moved into a family soon, that you're gonna be unlucky for the rest of your life and not get chosen like them.

that you're just gonna stay here until some lowly men decides to buy you off, or probably meet a worse fate.

but one sudden day when the director of the orphanage comes running into the dining hall and announces to all the kids to be on their best behaviors because someone from the second district is going to be coming down the next day, your life changes for the better at the age of fifteen.

you didn't think you had a chance at all, but you still wanted to try because no matter the intense dislike you hold for the two higher districts, if there's an opportunity for a better life, you're going to take it.

it's better than staying here and suffering. everyone else is becoming desperate and you're not any different.

the lady comes the following day as expected, her carriage alerting the entire place of her arrival as all the kids are on their knees with desperation in their eyes.

you guys have never had any visitors from a district so high up before, so this is very crucial.

when she walks in, everyone bows to welcome her, the sight as equally mesmerizing to others as it is to you. never in your life have you seen anyone with so many pearls and jewels, the gown she's wearing made of only the best materials.

it then hits you harder that however this lady decides to take you in, you're going to be living a comfortable life no matter what.

she takes one look around the room, all the children secretly crossing their fingers and it's when her eyes land on you and her lips turn up into a smile.

the director tells her you're a good kid. often guarded and doesn't really get along with the others, but well behaved nonetheless.

it feels weird to be the one everyone's envious of when you were usually on the opposite spectrum, but now passing all the kids as you make way to the front door, all their burning gazes planting a seed of guilt because you understand the feeling all too well.

but with the nation in this state, all anyone can do is look out for themselves. eventually, their time will come, and this just so happens to be yours.

the lady sits you down in the carriage next to her while the coachman leads the way back. she informs you will be working under the family as a servant but will be provided housing, food, and even freedom from time to time.

"i heard you like sewing."

you nod shyly at her words.

"i learned it from my mother."

"good. then you will have the opportunity to hone the skill."

the trip to the second district takes a total of three days, the only times you guys stopped was for food or toilet breaks. when the coachman announces the arrival, your first time seeing the scenery is that to of a fish fresh out of water.

you didn't even know trees or grass could be that green. or that it's not always supposed to feel like a sense of dread that takes the smiles off people's faces until they just look straight miserable.

it's as if you've entered a completely different nation, unable to comprehend the huge difference already, even in comparison to the third district.

the lady is quick to disappear into the house almost the size of the orphanage itself, calling for someone else to escort you around and show what the next couple of years (and possibly, the rest of your life) has in store for you.

you're to wake up at 5am everyday to prepare food for the noble family, and will be sharing a chamber with three other female servants: the main cook, the main cleaner, and another young girl about your age.

you're only allowed to wander during weekends with authorization and is only to go out for groceries or other necessities. other than that, any rule breaking will have consequences.

for the next couple of days, you practice the routine.

waking up in the early morning and prepping breakfast, then cleaning, and repeat for lunch and dinner. sometimes, you'd get to do different tasks like helping the noble daughter pick out a dress or shoes for the day, but that's only if you get called.

you pick up the cooking and cleaning quite fast because you used to help your parents a lot. and though the work hours can be tiring, the food you're eating and the place you sleep in is a lot better.

you also get the occasional freedom and access to improve your seamstress skills, and it's not the ideal life, but it is the best one for someone like you.

you hear a grunting sound close by one morning when you decide to wake up earlier than usual.

turning to the source, you see a figure far away near the tall gates, prancing around in his heavy armors with a sword in his hand. the sight definitely amazes you as you're only able to stare in awe before accidentally creating a ruckus that catches the attention of the stranger as he turns around.

it's still dark and you can't see his face very well, only until he starts walking toward you.

"can i help you?" he asks, voice a type of husky but innocent.

"oh, no." you shake your head, "i was just uhm... watching."

he chuckles and looks to the ground, your eyes trained on the way his dark hair ruffles along with his movements until he's staring at you again, finally out of the poor lighting.

he's cute and has childlike features. definitely not an appearance that gives away he could probably slice you dead right now if he wants to.

"you're the new worker," he vocalize, and it takes you a second to figure how he knew, following his gaze to the door of the chamber behind you.

"ah, yes i am." you nod.

"cool. well, i'm the gatekeeper. jongho."

"gatekeeper?" you crank an eyebrow, so far behind on rich people terminology, you have no idea what that means.

"i just protect and patrol the place in case of any intruders. it sounds fancy but it's really not. you don't have to keep it formal, though. we're all servants here."

"i see." you smile tight-lipped.

he also does look a little too young to be manhandling weapons or putting his life on the line, but you too, are also too young to be losing your parents and getting sold off as a servant.

for anyone in the lower three districts, it is all for survival.

you soon learn that jongho was born in the fourth district but he's been living and training here for so long, he can barely recall his time there.

and you're not sure what it is about him that makes you open up given the fact you've been closed off for so long ever since your parents death and the comprehension of the cruel world you're living in, but through the year and before you turn sixteen, you find your first true friend in choi jongho.

age 16:

you get acquainted with hongjoong, a friend of jongho and a messenger who travels in and out of the districts to deliver any important information.

you're not sure how he keeps his identity on the low in spite of the growing tension between all the districts, but jongho assures you he has his ways.

jongho spends his days training with many kinds of weapons; swords, spears, daggers, crossbows, and just about everything when he's not guarding the house--which he usually isn't because the second district is still relatively safe at this time.

but if there is any outside attackers, it would be jongho's and the other men's responsibilities to protect the noble family. it's what they've all been trained for.

you still cook and clean, and your sewing skills have gotten increasingly better that you also started picking up embroidery.

on the occasion, jongho would teach you how to use a dagger just so you'd have some knowledge of self defense and protection considering the alarming state of the nation.

and now that you're living under people of noble status, royal parties and balls were the standards. not that you'll ever get to attend them for yourself, always hearing about it for an alternative or watching the noble family dress up in pretty attires that cost hefty coins before they waddle off in their carriage into the first district.

hongjoong returns a week later, informing you and jongho that the conditions, especially in the fifth district, is really bad that some citizens have decided to risk their lives in hope of reaching the kingdom of aurora since ships and boats cannot be sailed without approval from the royal family.

"it's basically a death sentence to be living in any of the lower districts at this point. i fear if the king doesn't do anything about it, a civil war may be on the horizon."

age 17:

not much changes and hongjoong has said that the king, along with other royal and noble families, refused to take actions since the dividing of resources for all the other districts would cause the first and second to falter because they do not have enough for everyone.

it's better to keep some afloat than to put the entire nation at risk.

"but sir, that's only going to keep running the citizens out of the nation, and the ones that do stay are becoming angry. the first organization against the royal family already formed, calling themselves outlaws. and they're not just ordinary citizens. they could infiltrate the two higher districts if they want to. a solution is not to only keep them happy, but to also prevent a war."

"then strengthen the security. we also have equally skilled men, if not, more. send any able-bodied men to the gates of the first and second district and don't let anybody from the lower threes enter."

age 18:

things only get worse. nobody is allowed to travel freely between the districts anymore and anyone from the first two were strongly advised not to go down because the chances of getting robbed or assaulted are high.

the four working men in the house dwindled down to two because the other two, including jongho, would be sent to guard the entrance. but during rotation when he gets to come back to sleep and eat, he'd tell you that it's eerily quiet, but that all the lower districts know the higher ones are blocking off entrance and might retaliate soon.

"we should be prepared for the worst. hongjoong said the fact they're quiet might mean the organization is planning something."

age 19:

for a while, security at the entrance decreases when it looks like the lower districts weren't gonna try to do anything about it.

jongho and the other men in the house were able to stay around longer, sometimes even for a few days straight without going back, and the outrage did feel like it was just a false alarm.

no one in the higher districts, even hongjoong, were prepared for the storm that is after the calm.

"y/n! wake up!"

you groggily groan at the voice, sounding both hushed but eager as it jolts you from sleep.

it's jongho and he looks absolutely terrified, his figure hovering over your body still in bed.

"come on, y/n! we have to get going!"

you don't have the time to take in anything, jongho already pulling you up harshly to stand on your feet as you hurl out more groans and complaints.

"what's going on? i was sleeping, you know."

"the king is dead."

it's those words that makes you more awake than ever, unable to believe as you just stare dumbfoundedly while he ravages the drawers for more appropriate clothings.

"w-what? h-how?" you can barely form anything coherent at this point, your heart racing so fast.

"he was assasinated," jongho reveals, throwing a loose, oversized shirt at you. "we're not sure how they managed to get that far up the first district, but all this time, that must've been what they were preparing for--you need to get changed."

he throws you a pair of pants and continues speaking, at the same time going through almost the entire perimeter for anything that will prove useful.

you don't even care he's in the same room, your body going into shock and quickly pulling the night gown off before putting on what he gave you.

"hongjoong thinks they're planning a raid, starting from the second district and working their way up. if we stay here, we could get captured, held hostage, or whatever those outlaws want to do with us--here."

he finds the dagger he had given you sitting in the last drawer, pulling the extra sheath out of his pouch and running to tie it around your waist.

"keep this with you at all time, and remember what i taught you. just in case we ever get separated, you need to protect yourself," he demands, passing the dagger to you with an extremely serious look on his face along with the statement just now, making you queasy in the stomach.

you can't imagine having to part from jongho for whatever reason. you wouldn't know what to do.

he gestures to your shoes and you wear it quickly.

"now come on, let's go!" he grabs your wrist and your body flings forward, only managing to grab the pouch on top the dresser before your feet's following his steps out the door despite the lingering sleepiness and that you could be forgetting something else, but it's all happening so fast, your mind struggling to keep up.

you're about to ask him about the other servants, or the noble family, but as he whisk you into the nightly air, the breeze pushing past your skin, you realize that before jongho came, you were alone.

they all left you.

"where are we going?" you ask.

"down to the third district. hongjoong lended me a map and said to go through the forest, we'll catch less attention that way. he said we can stay at one of his hideouts for now."

for the next hours, you don't see anything but trees and branches in your way, and the moon high above the dark sky as it follows both you and jongho.

your feet tired and sore at this point, asking jongho to find a place to sit even for just a few minutes because you might just pass out.

"if we keep at this pace, we'll be able to make it to the third district by morning," he informs, handing over the costrel and telling you to drink.

you nod, passing it back after finishing, observing for a few seconds as jongho takes a couple sips.

"so where did everyone else go?" you finally bring up the question bothering you.

"to the lower districts. i heard some are hoping to reach the port so they'll get the chance to sail to aurora or dune, now that the royal family is in a crisis, people don't care anymore. but as you already know, we have limited ships and boats and it's going to be a bloodbath all around."

he goes on, "we only found out the king was dead when people from the first district started migrating, and then everyone in the second started panicking, and i honestly did too initially. i was about to start heading down until i remembered you."

you smile and nudge the boy with your elbow affectionately.

"if not for you, i probably would've turned into a corpse by tomorrow."

"pfft," he scoffs, "not a corpse but a captive maybe. their target is still the royal family, and now that the king is dead, they'll most likely go after the prince. the raid is just to scare people off so they can bask in the lavish that the first and second district has to offer. but still, it's better to be safe than sorry. they did killed the king, after all."

you take in the information, asking one last question.

"and where is hongjoong?"

"he was also in the second district at the time, but after lending me the map and instructions, he said he's gonna go up in order to get more details; hopefully talk to the prince and will report back in a few days."

"do you think he's going to be okay?"

jongho nods and stands up from the log, reaching his hand out to help you.

"he should be. he wouldn't be able to survive for this long if he isn't competent. but we should get going or else the trip will be delayed."

the hideout is a small shack in the corner of the wood, blending into the surroundings so perfectly, you and jongho almost missed it.

it's essentially a square with a single wooden bed, one chair, and a small table with an ewer sitting on top. jongho said the water in there should still be good to use, and that he brought enough breads to survive on for a few days.

"i can take the floor," he says, taking off the crossbow and sword that's been stuck to his body for an entire night and settling them down.

"we can take turns," you offer an alternative, pitying the boy because he's the one who's been doing most of the works.

"alright."

he nods it off. he wasn't gonna fight you on it.

you and jongho passes time by training for the majority of time. sometimes, you'd just watch, but when he isn't worn out by his own routine, he'd tell you the basics of a crossbow and a knightly sword and would proceed to watch you practice with the dagger.

"you're holding it like a coward who's never fought in their life," is his usual criticism.

"well maybe cause i am a coward who has never fought before," you will retort.

"when facing an enemy, you can't show that you're afraid. you have to believe in yourself."

"easy for you to say."

but regardless of his yapping that sometimes make you roll your eyes all the way to the back of your head, he's a good teacher and even complimented you. if saying that you're a lot less awful than when you started, counts.

three days later from when you both settled, the light, passive knock at the door alerts you and jongho, you almost wishing it was one of the outlaws, preferably a weaker member just so you can put what you've learned to use.

but it's hongjoong.

"so what did the prince say?" jongho asks, quick and eager.

"he's recruiting. said he'll take in anyone still willing to stand by his side while he figure things out. he needs time."

"what about the guards and men that were in the castle? isn't it their duty to protect the royal family?"

"more than half of them ran to the lower districts. the outlaws probably won't do much to a normal citizen, but they will be vile to anyone on the prince's side."

"and he didn't try to stop them?" you join, hongjoong turning his head to you and shaking.

"he said he wasn't gonna force anyone who didn't want to stay. but for those willing to fight by his side, he'll take them."

you don't mean to come off hypercritical, but you can't help but think that the prince is being careless.

"but the outlaws want him dead, no? he shouldn't be taking in just anybody. that's too dangerous."

hongjoong just shrugs.

"that was his order."

a silence hangs between the three of you after, and one glance at jongho, you see that conflicted look in his eyes and know that he's about to say something you won't like.

"i'll go."

you snap your neck to him so fast, there must've been a pop.

"what--jongho, no," you object, worry in your tone. hongjoong just standing by and watching the incoming dispute unfold.

"it's better than standing around and waiting for something to happen."

"but putting your life on the line? for all you know, there might not even be a solution at all. look at the state of the kingdom. people are running away, everyone fearing for their own safety. in the end, you could be dying for nothing. did you forget it's because of these people that us born in the lower districts have to live a shit life?"

by now, you're both facing each other and fuming through your noses.

"and did you forget that we haven't been to the lower districts in years? ever since we got the opportunity to move into one of the top two? even if we were just servants, we were living better than a normal family in the fifth district. i was guarding and blocking off an entrance because i was so much better than the people trying to get through. you think i enjoyed doing that shit? no. but it was my job. in some ways, we betrayed our roots, y/n. and you're right. the prince could be lying and stalling out of his ass, but you know... i'm hoping that he's not. because for once, i want to feel like i'm doing something worthy. i didn't train all my life just to guard gates where nothing ever fucking happens nine out of ten times."

you watch in disbelief as he turns to pick up his crossbow and sword.

"so whether you like it or not, i'm going."

he gives hongjoong a stern look, to which the older man returns one, but is soon carried away by your voice again.

"then i'm going with you."

and jongho knows he's going to sound like a hypocrite; the fact he cares for you as much as you care for him so he doesn't want you to put yourself in the face of danger.

he also understands that you share the same sentiment in regard to him, which is why you don't want him to go.

"no. it's safest for you to stay here. you don't have the same training and combat that i do. you can barely hold a dagger the right way and it's one of the most light and basic weapon. those outlaws will pummel you like a bug."

you roll your eyes and you can see hongjoong trying to hold in his laughter.

"well geez, thanks, master. but boohoo. all i know is that i need to stab," you snark, managing to pull a small smile from jongho before switching tone. "i'm serious, though. i know i'm not gonna be pounding anyone, but i'd still like to come with. it would put a lot of my worries to rest knowing you're alive and okay."

"i'll be fine, y/n," he assures, one hand on your shoulder, "and if it'll make you feel better, if hongjoong doesn't mind, he can come once in a while to inform you of what's going on."

you meet hongjoong's gaze at that and he nods with a thin smile.

but that's still not good enough for you because how can you possibly be okay with the only person you can call family, going off and risking his life?

you're not.

which is why when they both finally depart, you wait until they're a good distance away yet still visible to the eye, tying the sheath the way jongho did and sticking your dagger in before taking the costrel he left for you along with the remaining breads and following right behind them.

hongjoong used to travel on horseback but he has to be more discreet this time around, especially going up the higher districts.

you're somewhat thankful for that because you're not sure you can keep up if that was the case.

you stop when they stop, and rest when they rest. you would try listening in on their conversations but it's always inaudible from where you're at.

you put aside the pain of an aching feet or fear of the nightly forest, afraid you would give yourself out.

two days later, you're sure you guys are close. a part of you somewhat curiously pumped because you've never wander up the first district before.

with the sun setting and the stars soon to come out, you're hoping to arrive before it gets too dark because you really are dreading the idea of spending another night hidden behind itchy bushes.

dragging yourself up the steep hill, you can't help but to admire the scenery, the air of utopia still fresh and the birds still chirp like the nation is whole, resuming your steps only to see that you've lost sighting of jongho and hongjoong, and if you're any quicker, they will catch on.

you don't panic just yet, although you're getting nervous, but carrying on because the castle shouldn't be too far from here. as soon as you can spot it, it should be easy to trace it back to the two.

the only problem is how you're gonna get in once you reach it.

as you get closer to the top, you can spot the castle's head peaking, and once finally on flat land, you're able to see the entire thing, and the dazzling white architecture is hard to miss.

the heart and soul of utopia planted right in the center of the first district, and you've never seen anything more sophisticated in your entire life. but as you sneak closer, you're sure that you're not even gonna make it past the portcullis.

if you don't find jongho, you'd be coming all this way for nothing.

you've been watching the guards at the gate and their patterns of behavior for the last hour, every time inching closer to the entrance with the least amount of noise as possible.

but you should've known. you've overestimated your ability (by a large margin) thinking you can outsmart people who does this for a living, and of all places, it had to be royal family's. stupid.

you barely take a step when the pressure of a sharp object against your back make your eyes go wide in horror.

you're thinking this is it. you should've listened to jongho and should have not acted like such a know-it-all, because the next time he sees you, it will be in corspe form.

the beating of your heart is loud along with the stranger's breathing, their hand going retrieve your dagger from the sheath, and if they attack, you will have no other way to defend yourself.

"who the hell are you and why are you sneaking around my castle?" the deep, masculine tone drowns your ears.

my castle?

you foolishly turn around like an idiot, feeling the pressure of the object move to your neck instead, looking up at this mysterious stranger but unable to make anything out.

the running of footsteps and commotion can be heard from behind you, a series of voices and better lighting approaching with all the torches in the guards hands, and when you're finally able to make out the pair of eyes staring back, it feels as if you forgot how to breathe.

because if it isn't the most beautiful man you've ever seen, dark locks, sly and sharp eyes to that of a fox that looks disapproving of your choices before it turns slightly softer when he sees how harmless you actually look, the weapon in his hand lowering with a clear of his throat.

"what part of 'it's safest if you stay here' did you not understand?"

jongho's loud and frustrated voice echoes through the entire hall, pacing back and forth in place as he reprimands you in front of hongjoong, the prince, and his other royal companions.

the prince (who you have to make a point one more time that he's devastingly beautiful) was unexpectedly casual when you explained to him you were looking for your friends, even returning your dagger.

"i only came because i was worried about you. i know you would do the same for me."

"yes, but something could've happened to you. you could've gotten lost, or worse."

"as you can see, i'm fine. the most life threatening thing was the prince putting a knife to my back and neck."

"because you were limping around the castle like an idiot."

"well, what was he doing outside of it anyways?"

"why are you talking about the prince like that!" he yells, and the both of you having an awakening at the same time, registers how embarrassing and inappropriate it actually is to be having a screaming match in the royal family's hall, turns to the prince and bow in apology.

"sorry," you both mutter.

"it's fine," the prince dismisses.

when you were still living at the orphanage, some of the kids would often play guessing games about the prince just because the chances of ever meeting him were close to none, everyone might as well get creative.

some assumed he's a snob because kids being kids, they were all jealous of the fact he was living better, and so it's only natural he would think he's better than everyone else.

then some thought he looked like a troll, which was why the king and queen kept him inside most of the time.

none of you guys knew a lot about the prince, but there were words on the street that he almost never went out of the castle; some even using that as confirmation for why he's a stuck-up.

but after meeting him, he's nothing like the kids have predicted.

he definitely does not look like a troll or sound like a snob, at least so far. he's actually rather soft-spoken, though a bit aloof and stoic. but you suppose one isn't gonna be jolly after the death of their father.

jongho had insisted that you go back immediately, and you were considerate of the castle's deities enough to pull him outside just to object.

but you only got another line in the quarrel before the prince intervened and much to jongho's dismay, said you could stay for the night since it was getting late and traveling would be difficult.

"but you're leaving as soon as the sun comes up!" he proceeds to nag the entire time you tuck yourself to bed, the prince kindly offering a spare chamber for you to stay in.

"yes. i know," you reply, all snarky tone and turning to face the other way because he's getting on your nerves.

there's a quick silence before the edge of the bed creaks with his weight.

"look, i know you only came because you were worried about me, and you're right, i would do the same for you."

you toss slowly to look him up in the eyes from your position.

he goes on, now locking you in his gaze, "but it's way too dangerous for you to stay here, and we don't know when they're going to attack. and worse, if they see you're in alliance with the prince, who knows what they'll do? i'll be fine. this is what i've trained my whole life for. you just have to believe in me."

you sigh and frown, finally deciding to cave because you do know that jongho is capable. you've never doubted him. it's the opponents that you're unsure of, their next moves could be anything.

"i'll go back, but hongjoong still needs to follow the end of the deal."

jongho smiles warmly, relieved you're no longer trying to fight him on this.

"he'd be happy to."

you nod, figuring that since you're already here, you might as well ask.

"so how many men volunteered?"

"for now, three. me, someone named yunho from the third district, and another guy named minjun. but more might wind up later, who knows."

"i still don't think it's smart of the prince to be taking in just anyone. it's way too risky. you have good intentions, but what about the two other?" you voice concernedly, your forehead starting to crease from the distress.

you just met the prince, but you know that the idea is ridiculous and you don't want him meeting the same fate as his father.

"optimism maybe? i don't know. more than half of the royal family's protections are gone so he probably can't be too picky. but i'd like to think he knows what he's doing."

but he's also still young and is currently in a worse position than his father, the king, who couldn't even save utopia. you don't think anybody is ready to be in his place, let alone lead an entire kingdom that's falling apart.

"alright. then you should return to the others; help them look after the prince. he's going to need it."

"actually, he ordered us to stay with the queen and princess."

you shoot up from position, incredulity written all over your face.

"what--why? all of you guys? then who's going to look after him?"

jongho shrugs.

"i disagree as well, but after all, he's the prince. we can't disobey orders."

"you guys should be allowed to if it's foolish. what is going on in his head?" you shake your own, unable to believe it.

you just know that something bad is gonna happen, and it would be due to the prince's own incompetence.

jongho has no idea either given he only just met him as well, but he's crossing his fingers the prince will prove both of you wrong.

"i have to go. you should get some rest because you'll be leaving in the early morning. i'll see you then."

you're woken up by a heavy disturbance, the ruckus happening outside of the room but also sounding so close.

it might be best if you stay here; leave whatever the noises is to the guards in the castle, but you just feel it in your guts that your prediction have came true.

carefully opening the door, you peek your head out, immediately drawn to the bright light illuminating at the end of the hall, and soon, your quick and eager feet has taken you to the shocking sight.

the prince standing before jongho and another guard as they hold back someone you can't quite recall. one of his hand tending to the cut on his left arm, and you can see the red seeping through the thin white fabric.

the prince meets your eyes when he notices you standing outside.

"i knew it!" you screech, your turn to pace back and forth as jongho watches from the side. "he shouldn't have just taken in anyone!"

you found out it was minjun, one of threes who volunteered along with jongho, who attacked the prince. apparently, he had snuck away from the other guards and was in the prince's room within minutes, a sword aimed at the young royal that could've taken his life.

"luckily, he only got off with a cut. i can't even imagine what would've happened."

jongho groans anxiously, the first day on the job and the reality of it already showing its head.

"there's nothing luck-based about the prince's survival," hongjoong's voice has you both turning as he appears from the opened door.

"prince san isn't only highly skilled in all areas of fighting, but he's the best warrior utopia has to offer. he most likely knew about the attack beforehand, which was why he only got away with a cut considering minjun also isn't just an average member of the outlaws," hongjoong reveals, the new information makes you and jongho gawk at each other in surprise.

"y/n," he calls out, and you detach from jongho's eyes to look at him.

"yes?"

"i need you to do me a favor. i trust you enough, and you look rather... harmless."

you pinch in your brows. if he wants to go off about your terrible fighting and self defense skill, he might as well just spell it out.

"the prince said he has a plan, but we're going to need to buy time. and no matter how skilled he is, we can't keep dealing with people coming into the castle in attempts to severe the prince's head. it's best if he's away until we can figure things out, for his safety and the kingdom's."

you only hum and nod, wondering where exactly this is going.

"he'll be leaving with you in the morning."

your face falls in horror, unable to believe they're entrusting the prince to you. the thoughts of being alone with someone like him both terrifying but weirdly stimulating.

"oh my gosh, she's blushing..." jongho yelps, a smirk tugging at his lips. he's seen the way you'd ogle at the prince, definitely something you never did to any other men.

"i'm not!" you cry defensively, embarrassed. "i-i just don't think i'm the right person."

"we just need the prince away from the castle for a few days. for now, it look like the outlaws are not planning on moving up the first district entirely, so the rest of us should be safe as well for the time being. you still remember the way back to the shack, right?"

you nod hesitantly.

"good. then it's settled."

the following morning, everyone bids farewell to the prince, the queen and princess wishing him well as the guards and hongjoong stack him with equipments, while jongho makes you carry the food and water.

he takes off the royal attire, disguising himself in commoner clothings instead, as recommended by his companion, wooyoung.

hongjoong promises to report back once things get relatively better.

at first, it's nerve-racking because you just can't help it. the prince is so handsome and your touch-starved body just reacts naturally, but once you figure he isn't gonna talk to you, only gesturing or murmuring out short instructions, the spark wears off.

"we should stop and rest for the night," he speaks more than three words for the first time, laying down his stuff and nodding to the tall tree.

"alright."

you settle your things down as well, plopping against the tree and waiting for him to do the same but he instead pulls out the sword and starts slashing the air.

when he takes notice of your gawking from behind, he apologizes.

"sorry, i'm just... practicing, hope you don't mind. you can rest, i'll keep watch."

you nod it off, sleep soon taking over, but when you wake a few hours later, able to tell from the different color painting the sky, the prince is still practicing and seems just as eager as he was before.

"prince," you call out, his movements halting in place as he turns back at the sound of your voice.

"call me san."

you clear your throat, "uh... san, have you slept at all?"

he shakes his head.

"i was practicing."

you stand up, dusting off the dirts from your pants and growing concerned regarding the sleepless prince.

"you can sleep. i'll keep watch and if there's anything, i'll wake you up," you offer, but he's quick to reject the proposal.

"no need to. i'm not tired anyways. if you're feeling fully rested, we can keep going. the sun is almost up."

you watch in dejection as he goes to retrieve his things because you're not sure you can believe he's not even the tiniest bit tired from everything so far.

it takes almost an entire day to reach the destination, your body tired and aching for something to sit on, the minute you reach the shack, you're sprawled all over the chair.

the prince looks just fine, though.

"it's small, but comfortable," you assure the prince just in case he has any doubts in mind. because you initially did, too, but it was surprisingly homey when you last stayed with jongho.

he nods, eyes roaming the small interior.

"it'll do."

"you can take the bed. i don't mind taking the floor," you tell him, but he instead shakes his head.

"the bed's all yours. i'll be outside practicing."

you scowl and sit up from your seat.

"again? we've been traveling all day. you should really get some rest considering you didn't get any the night before."

but he's stubborn, grabbing for his sword again as you can only sigh in disapproval.

"i really don't feel tired."

"then you should eat, at least."

"i'm not hungry."

you end up going to bed alone, only listening to the prince's grunting and slashing outside as he practices like he's trying to reach out to something or someone.

the uneasiness consuming you, seeing him always looking so miserable as if something's bothering him, unable to rest or do anything else.

it's understandable because of the circumstances he's in, but you wish he would be kinder to himself.

you only give him another two hours before taking matters into your own hand, flinging the door open to his figure dancing around the area with his sword, calling his name softly that makes him stop in track to look at you.

"enough," you mumble, quiet but stern, prying the weapon out of his hold with so much power, you think jongho would be proud.

"no, i have to pr--" he reaches for the sword but you move back, the prince grabbing only the nightly air in place.

"no, you don't," you spit, your free hand going to grab his wrist and dragging him back inside. "you need to eat and rest."

the sword clinks the flooring when you drop it, sitting san down on the bed and grabbing some of the breads and dried meat before taking the seat next to him.

"i understand you're going through a lot right now and it's tough, but you need to take care of yourself. you can't wear your body out or punish it. you're not even fully healed from the cut. if something happens, if worst comes to worst, you need to be prepared to fight."

you push the food toward him but he doesn't budge the slightest. his eyes trained on it, but everything else completely frozen.

for a second, you think all the efforts is gonna go to waste because the prince won't listen, but much to your surprise, he starts talking.

"my father and everyone around me would always say i was the best fighter in the entire kingdom; that i was one of a kind, gifted from a young age, and the future of utopia. i used to believe that as well, but what kind of prick can't even save his own father?"

a small gasp fall, fussing under your breath, "san..."

"maybe i'm only as great because i had the access and materials to become great. but in actuality, i would be no more than average in any other scenarios."

"san, you are great. hongjoong said you are, and you even fought off minjun. it's not your fault what happened to your father," determination in your delivery, finding yourself oddly caring for someone you barely knew.

"father did always lived every day as if it was his last. he knew everyone was out to get him..." he fidgets with one of the breads before taking a small bite out of it. "i thought it would make me feel better if i caught his killer, but i really don't feel any different."

"so hongjoong was right. you knew about the attack?"

you watch as he ogles at the piece of bread like it's the most interesting thing in the world, noddling lightly and taking another bite.

"somewhat, yeah. i was the one who found my father's body, and you can imagine… it's not easy for any kid to see their own parent blue in the face, lying lifeless in front of them, and especially knowing their murderer got away. it made me vengeful, but i couldn't act recklessly. i had to set up a bait because i didn't know who it was, but i knew they were coming."

you listen to each of his words so attentively, and you make sure he knows.

"it could've been your friend, jongho, or the others that came along. it could be anyone. it could be all of them. but regardless, whoever it was wanted me dead just like my father and wouldn't have passed up the chance."

you exhale, looking at the prince with sympathy and sadness in your eyes, all this time you really gave him too little credits, one of your hand somehow finding itself on top his resting one and soothing it.

"i can't do much, but i'm here to listen. if we're going to be together for a while, we might as well have each other's back."

and when san finishes his food and actually goes to sleep for the rest of the night (although you did have to fight him about sleeping on the floor), you finally feel at ease, able to go to sleep knowing he's not pushing himself.

san is the first thing you see upon waking up, his figure bending down a couple feet away and drinking out of the costrel.

he knows you're up from the movements, turning to meet your tired eyes.

"good morning."

"good morning, san."

"you should eat first. i left some out for you."

"oh, okay."

you nod politely, throwing the blanket off and getting up from the makeshift bed, but first telling him that you're gonna go wash your face.

"i checked the ewer. there's no more water in there."

"hmm," you hum, attempting to come up with a solution. "i'm gonna go down to the river. i'll be back in a bit."

"wait." his call stops you in track, half your body out the door. "i'd like to come with."

"is that okay? i mean... will that be safe?" because now that the prince is with you, you feel it is your responsibility to keep him out of danger no matter how unskillful you are. you don't want a single sighting putting his life on the line (more than it already is).

"we'll make it quick. besides, i need to wash up as well. i don't feel too clean from all those practices."

the river is actually quite close by, having never been there during your stay in this district but following the sound of nature was relatively easy to do. and you suppose hongjoong chose the spot for this reason.

once there, you're splashing your face immediately and rejoicing in the cool sensation, only just registering san's been watching you the entire time when you turn and meet his piercing gaze.

his expression blank before dropping to a smile at your wide-eye. and the first time that he does, you realize you've never seen him smile, ever. your attention taken away by the deep indentations appearing from his cheeks, and for just a second, your heart feels like it might explode.

but it's his turn with the river, you observing as he mimics you until both your faces are wet and raining with droplets.

"here," you say, pulling out the spare handkerchief you had remember to bring before coming, offering it to him then using the other one for yourself.

he thanks you, about to wipe his face when the striking design catches his eye.

"this is beautiful," he comments, your head snapping his direction. "did you make it yourself?"

you nod shyly.

"i picked up embroidery somewhere after sewing for a while."

the conversation continues on the walk back, san asking the questions because he just grasped the revelation he doesn't know anything about you.

aside from trying to sneak into his castle and being the friend of one of his guards, that's as much as he can recall off the top of his head although you're quite literally in a life or death situation with him.

"you said you picked up embroidery, so are you from the second district?"

san knows almost everyone who lived in the first district, having spent his entire life and becoming familiar with the surrounding neighbors.

during the occasional balls and parties, he'd get acquainted with some from the second districts. but he's never seen you before. if he did, he would probably be able to recognize you.

but he knows that a hobby and skill like embroidery was something only those in the top two could afford. it was a luxury, as much as san hates putting it like that.

you giggle at the thought and shake your head.

"i was a servant for a family from the second, but i'm originally from the fifth. i picked up embroidery because the daughter of the family was pressured into learning and i was there to help sometimes."

"oh..." is all he says.

maybe he expected you to have some noble blood or be from greatness, but the only thing close to the two were the shoes you shined and the people you served.

your entire life, nothing about you was ever great or noble.

you may have ran from the lower district for a better life, but you were never ashamed of where you came from.

it made you who you are, and if anything, you're a survivor.

"yeah..." you mumble, stopping once reaching the shack again.

he picks it up from your tone, correcting himself to make sure you don't misunderstand, "no. i didn't mean it like that. i'm just, curious about you and your background."

"oh?" you squeak, "then what do you want to know, prince."

you take a seat where he was sitting before, reaching for the food he left for you and looking up at him from where you are, wondering what kind of prince would want to know about a commoner like you.

"an iris," he refers to the pattern embroidered on the handkerchief, "was there a reason why you chose it?"

you smile softly, the question taking you back to a lane of memories and nostalgia.

"it was both of my parents' favorite flower. they always did clung onto any sort of hope there was when it came to our living conditions, and father would always used to say the iris not only symbolized that, but also courage and bravery. i don't know how true that is, but i tend to associate the flower with my parents. it was all i managed to take when me and jongho ran from the second district."

"that's sweet," the prince says, making your eyelashes bat as he plops down at the end of the makeshift bed but he never once look away from you. "and where are your parents?"

the death of your parents was once something that was difficult to talk about; a reality that you used to deny because you couldn't accept that they're no longer by your side and sharing the same struggles. because you guys did suffered a lot, but you all had each other.

and suddenly, you only had yourself.

it wasn't until jongho that you started to open up again; learn to let someone into your heart; to share the same struggles and to suffer all over again, but at least with someone by your side once more.

and it's with that lesson that you allow the prince in as well, unveiling some parts of yourself, for some reason feeling like you can entrust it to him.

"they passed away. the fishermen said the sea took them. it's been a long time and i've come to terms with it."

you don't miss the way his chest fall and a sullen look takes over his expression.

"i'm sorry to hear."

his life experiences and pain could never compare to anyone from the lower districts, he understands that all too well; how good and privileged he's had it.

but grief doesn't discriminate, and the feeling is... debilitating.

it makes you go into denial, nothing but a directionless road laying ahead, unable to help but think if you ever will recover.

but he feels a little better after talking to you, a living proof that no matter the loss or grief one goes through, there's a chance he will make it out fine in the end.

you're about to go off to bed when you suddenly remember what hongjoong had told you.

"prince," you call from below, the title just naturally rolling off despite the plenty of time he's made clear you can call him by his name.

"we have to change the dressing on your wound."

you get up to go search through one of the heavy bags, digging for some clean linens and vinegar the others had made sure to pack for the prince.

"hongjoong said we should change it every couple of days," you tell him, sitting at the edge of the bed while he stands up from the sleeping position. "your arm, prince." you gesture and watch as he rolls up his sleeve.

your cheeks for some reason start heating up at the sight, the blinking and nervous twitch of your eyes give it away, causing a giggle to tumble out of the prince at your flustered reaction.

"y/n," he speaks, once you've stared for long enough and still have yet to remove the old cloth. "that's what jongho and hongjoong calls you by."

"y-yes." you nod.

"have you ever tend to a wound before?"

"well, no. but i've been instructed on how to."

"i see." he smiles, and you're about to crack at the man in front of you. beautiful smile, perfect features, and some muscular arms to go along with it.

once you've contained yourself (or at least look like it), you unwrap the worn cut-out cloth and replaces it with a new one, every steps of what hongjoong had laid out followed to the very best of your ability.

"thank you, y/n," the prince says one more time, and the last smile on him for the night makes you think he just might be teasing you.

the past few days that you've spent with the prince, he's proven your expectations and predictions wrong over and over again.

almost like everything you've assumed is untrue in the best way possible. his aloof and stoic ways melting into smiles and laughters when you'd tell him stories about the kids back at the orphanage and how they thought he was a troll.

spending days and nights confined to a small space with someone you just met, the idea sounding awful but the reality actually quite nice because it's comfortable with him.

he not only speaks well, his words always the most soft and unoffending as they can be, but he also listens well.

day by day, the doubts you had--whether he would be able to salvage utopia, changes to the hope and belief that he's more than competent to pull it off.

but there's still questions bothering you; the strangeness of the entire picture in how utopia managed to fall to a state this bad in the first place if the prince is as level-headed as he presents himself.

he at least should've been talking sense into the king.

so you finally ask, during a routine morning where you and san have gotten accustomed to waking up the crack of dawn, sitting facing each other and munching away on portions of food that becomes less the more days pass by.

"san," you start, his name now more comfortable on your lips. it makes him pick his up head from the food to you.

"hongjoong said you have a plan, right? the reason they sent you here was to buy time. i-i was just wondering where does it go from here?" you try your utmost best to not sound meddlesome.

you're just worried.

because as much as you enjoy the time together, the unknown makes you uneasy. you don't want to doubt him but you also don't want everything so far to be for nothing.

it's the prince's personal affairs and not yours, but you just wish for there to be assurances; some kind of proof that speaks he knows what he's doing, because the closer you get to him, the more you fear losing him.

"i have a plan, yes," he answers, the calm demeanor on him a complete contrast to the troubled one on you. "why? are you worried?"

you breathe out, eventually nodding timidly.

"it's just that the state of the kingdom right now is really bad and it's going to take a lot to please the citizens, especially the group of rebellions. the idea of peace just seems so... unreachable."

you already sound like you're about to break down, when the prince--the one actually having to deal with it, looks the most calm and collective.

he acknowledges the concern, thinking it's fairly reasonable. actually, he's surprise everyone's been able to restrain themselves from spiraling for this long.

if he was someone else, he don't think he'll be able to put his trust into an inexperienced prince in hope of him saving the entire nation as well.

"the people of utopia isn't aware, but about a decade ago, the king of aurora, the closest neighboring kingdom to us had offered to help the nation after witnessing the terrible conditions most of the lower districts were suffering from," san reveals, "but my father... he denied the help."

you squeeze your brows in disbelief.

"what--why?"

"the king of aurora only requested for utopia's protections and services in return. as you know, we may lack in every other aspects, but armed forces is our strength. almost every men in the nation has some kind of experience when it comes to fighting or self defense. aurora is a peaceful and harmonious nation, but their men do not have the same training, combats, or skills that we do, and the king of aurora acknowledged the fact. though aurora was very unlikely to get into an altercation with another nation, the king said he would feel a lot better with utopia behind them."

"my father didn't see a point in tying ourselves down, binding an 'unnecessary' responsibility to our back. he said our ancestors' done it for hundreds of years without help and it will continue to be that way. ever since then, aurora has shunned us. they're not gonna start a war over it, but in other words: they hate our guts."

there's a pause from the prince, something shifting in his eyes before he starts again.

"i love and cherish my father. he is my father after all, and most of everything i've been taught were from him. i also understand that some of the things he did were for my mother, me, and my sister. but i wouldn't ever tell him i also think he's selfish; that i disagree with his view of the world; with his way of running things."

the pain in the prince's voice and delivery is seeping, your heart curling at the amount of hurt he must keep to himself, but if you can be the one to lessen it just a little, you will listen to his every words.

"but still, he's my father and i miss him. no matter how selfish and unreasonable he was most of the times, i promise that after everything is over, i will hold a proper burial for him. i will also repay everyone that stood by my side... i promise that."

his volume tapers near the end, his gaze melting into yours at the last statement.

"i also promised i will correct the mistakes of those who came before me, and if it takes my life, at least i'll be content that i went down with my morals. that i fought for what i believed in, even if the ancestors come back to tear me to shreds for it."

you chuckle, attempting to hold back just the smallest tear pricking the corner of your eye because all you ever did was doubt and doubt, and every single time, he always proved you wrong in the best way possible.

"so you're going to attempt to make a truce with aurora?"

he nods.

"i have to try. if we want equality for everyone, we can't do it without the help of aurora. if we do it now, without aide, the nation will fall apart no different than it is now. no amount of transports based on utopia alone will be enough. but aurora's economy; the standing of their nation is stable enough that helping utopia back on its feet will barely feel like a lift of a finger to them."

"but how would the message reach them?"

"on the day that i got attacked, i sent out one of my men, seonghwa. he knows the way around the sea best. by now, considering it's almost been a week, he should have already reached aurora, but it will take another couple of days to return. that's why i need to buy enough time for seonghwa to come back. i know the citizens won't believe it until they see the king and prince yeosang of aurora for themselves."

"and just what if the king and prince rejects the offer?" you're just trying to touch upon all possibilities.

"you see... i've thought of that as well. in fact, there's probably a bigger chance of them dismissing it considering our history and all. but if that was the case, i had already told seonghwa to head for dune next. it will take him at least another week and a half because of the distance, but if worst come to worst, that's our last hope. dune would be a lot harder to get on our side because they're not lacking in anything, their only weakness is they don't have any kind of alliance. and i was hoping after we sign a treaty with aurora, we could try for dune because they'd be more willing then, knowing we also have aurora, but that's only wishful thinking."

"you really thought everything through, huh?" you have to admit, you're impressed.

"you have no idea. every night after my father's passing, i barely got any sleep... until you finally enforced it upon me."

you giggle, meeting a soft smile on the prince's lips.

"well you need it. and seeing as intricate the plan of action is, you're going to need it even more. don't overwork your body, get plenty of rest in preparation of the big day. i believe you'll be able to do it."

there's a quick silence in the air before the prince speaks again.

"thank you... for believing in me, and keeping me sane of all things."

"my pleasure."

"but if hongjoong doesn't show within a few days, or does with the bearer of the bad news, we'd have to be prepared for relocation. they will pick up that i'm not in the castle and will try looking for me. if dune is the alternative, we're going to have to buy even more time."

"here," san says, coming from behind to stand in front of you, pulling out his own.

after observing one of his practices, he had asked how familiar you are with daggers since he recalled ripping it out of your sheath that day.

you said all understanding you have of it were from jongho, though he liked to find fault in your execution, and after a couple demonstrations, the prince seems to agree that there's a few areas you could improve on.

"a dagger is a short distance combat. some of the most basic requirements in becoming somewhat skilled at is, is trying to master the three primary positions."

you watch him get into stance.

"the first one is a downward thrust, usually used for an opponent who's not experienced in knife combat."

he acts out the method, thrusting his weapon into the air and turning to you.

"you try."

you attempt to mimic what he just did, the weapon a lot light and easier on your grip because the training from jongho did pay off in some ways.

"not bad," he comments, "just more confidence, and don't be afraid. because trust, when the enemy is coming, they won't hold back."

he tightens your grip on the dagger before stepping away.

"this certain method can also be used when an opponent is equipped with another melee weapon, or a firearm."

you nod, his encouragement and gentle teaching style as he tries reframing from straight up saying you stink in some ways or forms, is definitely preferred.

"got it! you are a much better teacher than jongho by a mile. you're actually nice to me," you joke, and the most flattered smile acrossing san's lips doesn't go unseen.

you wouldn't ever say it out loud, not to the prince at least.

that though leaving the place and each other's presence will be for a good cause, in some parts of you, you're already starting to dread the separation.

the parts that already grew fond of him in such a short matter of time, you fear there will never be another chance like this. together.

after everything is over, things will go back to the way it was.

he is a prince after all, and you're just... you.

"so, prince, what is the best defense weapon. figure i should ask from only the most competent person in utopia," you talk from your seat, staring up at him as he preps for another hour of practice.

he promised it'll be only an hour today.

"pfft," he blows, "don't say it like that. you might end up unimpressed."

"i mean it."

"you haven't even seen me on the battlefield."

"but i believe in you."

you hop out of your seat to him, tilting your head, "so?"

"i would say a spear. distance is honestly the best defense there is, though i do enjoy practicing with a sword more."

and that's when it happens. all the long days and nights of peace and harmony comes crashing down, from the corner of your eye catching a cloaked figure from far away standing on top one of the hills with a crossbow in their possession.

"prince!" you cry out, pushing his body away from target the hardest ever as he falls to the ground, and then a short second after, the most painful sensation of your chest being struck takes your vision and breath away.

the last thing you see and hear before fading into utter blackness is the sheer horror on the prince's face as his hands are covered with blood, and the desperate call of your name.

"y/n!"

the sound of jongho's voice makes you think you're in a dream, only until your lids are fluttering open that you see the both, scared but relieved expression of your best friend.

"oh my gosh... thank goodness you're alive."

by how tight he's squeezing your hands, you're glad to know you're not dead just yet.

"where am i?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

"back at the castle. you were out for about four days."

"four days?" you repeat, when the memories come flooding back all at once and then some. "the prince."

you attempt to sit up but the dull pain from where you've been hit prevents you, your head falling back into the pillow.

"easy," jongho soothes your body back into position, "you lost a lot of blood, and not only that, the arrow had been poisoned. luckily, the castle has shelves of antidotes for it, but we were all worried that there was just the smallest chance you weren't gonna make it."

he pauses briefly, "the prince got you here in a day and a half... he felt really bad about what happened. he was by your side the entire time and only just left yesterday night when it was announced the king and prince of aurora have arrived."

"aurora have agreed to a truce?" your tone weak, but still filled with excitement, so happy for the prince.

"yes. and hopefully the prince can get them to sign a treaty. that's the plan. it's still going to take them another two or three days to reach the first district, but the prince wanted to go welcome them formally."

"will he be okay?"

"he's under disguise. but you should get some rest and stop worrying about someone else when you're in a worse condition than them," jongho snarks.

"just making sure..."

a smirk graces your friend, a coy look on him.

"what exactly happened back there that's now making you two act like an old married couple forced to be apart? i've known you for longer than the prince and he looked like he was in more distress than i was."

"nothing that is your business," you dismiss, hoping your cheeks doesn't tint a color that gives it away, a chuckle rolling out of jongho at that.

"you used to want to tell me everything. but fair enough. rest and wait until your body is fully healed. i'll visit you every day to update."

it's hard to wrap your head around the fact you didn't wake up for four days--which, more so, should've been the highlight, but you're more intrigued that the prince was by your side up until the last minute he had to go.

you don't want to get overly giddy about it; go beyond what's appropriate and assume that he did so because of another reason, and not just because he felt bad.

but you do wish to see him soon. even if just for a bit.

the next few days is a routine, usually consisting of jongho welcoming you with a wholesome breakfast that's more fulfilling than breads and dried meats, then another meal at dinner.

you're in bed for most of the time, your view usually the ceiling of the castle or the empty space around you, everyone busy and occupied now that the plan is becoming a reality.

jongho tries his best to visit you every day, and hongjoong on the occasion to check your condition, but if they're not patrolling outside, they're in halls discussing the next course of actions.

you've heard that the prince have returned just last night with the royals of aurora, not a single peace or quiet outside of your room since.

you can only hope that the loud and muffled voices outside is an indication that everything is going to work out for the prince; for the kingdom of utopia.

laying around in bed all day, only watching as the sun comes up and down as the wind sways the branches outside the window, wishing you could contribute more, if anything than just wait around all day feeling absolutely useless.

the first creak of the door ever since morning is heard, jongho having told you he won't be able to bring the next meal as he'd be out with the other guards but said someone else would.

and every time, no matter how hard you try burying the inappropriate sentiment, you wish it was the prince, even if just to see him for a minute.

you haven't seen him since that day.

but still, you're grateful to have any interactions at all. even if it's not the prince.

"hey," hongjoong greets, a thin smile on as he goes to take a seat on the stool facing the bed.

"hey hongjoong," you return, finally able to sit up without feeling like your gut's about to spill out.

"you doing better?"

you nod.

"a lot better compared to before."

"good. thought i should drop by to let you know about what's going to happen the next couple of days," his voice a deeper, stern tone, "the prince and royals of aurora will be going down the districts, one by one. the prince wants to let everyone know of the upcoming changes and fix that he has in plan. me and jongho will be away, but yunho and the rest of the guards will stay in the castle with the queen, the princess, and you."

"and how long are you guys going to be gone?"

hongjoong shrugs. "really depends. it could be a week, it could be more than that. traveling down to the fifth and coming back up here is gonna be a while. but as quick as possible, i hope."

"okay..." you frown. "just, stay safe."

you care for their safety and wellbeings more than anything. all three people of whom you're most familiar with, going off and risking their lives again. you're going to feel a certain type of way about it.

but they're doing it for a good cause. for the nation. for everyone. and so you allow to put your heart at rest just a little bit.

"don't worry. aurora brought some protections as well, and if we can convince the second district now overrun by outlaws, the rest of them should be easy."

hongjoong leaves after some last words of encouragment, and him wishing you a fast healing process.

later that night, they all left for the lower districts as stated.

the castle grows increasingly quiet, all ruckus from before now dwindled down to almost nothing.

the guards are usually busy patrolling outside, even more now that the prince is out, and the only people that seems to actually be around are the queen and princess.

the princess is the one to bring your meals, and you feel awful about the fact when it should be the other way around.

but she is wonderful. soft-spoken, elegant in her manners, and always with a smile on her face although you know it's not easy for anyone, especially what she's going through.

she bears almost no resemblance to san, but there's still some tell-tale features, like their eyes. the same foxy and slanted characteristic trademark on both siblings that looks so mellow on the princess, but entirely menacing on the prince.

"your tea."

the soft call of her voice would get you up from bed immediately, scooting over to thank her as you two meet eyes.

once you start feeling a lot better, able to stand on your feet and support yourself fully, you stroll the garden with the princess as she reminisce about everything crossing both of your path.

"i, too, wanted to be trained in weapons and self defense, but father said it wasn't suitable for someone like me. he would always take me out to the garden instead, in hope i'd develop a liking for it just so he didn't have to deal with the persistence. and i did... i did blossomed a love for gardening."

you scowl at the revelation.

"well, that's not right."

"it's not, but it was my father's order. he was a stubborn man and didn't like to listen to anyone. i wish i could say i saw anything else for father's ending."

both the prince and princess seems to share a mutual feeling regarding the father figure. though they understand the deeply flawed king, it's hard and conflicting when it's your own father.

"brother taught me what he could, which wasn't always possible because father was always around. but san is a good person... despite the amount of pressure father put on him, i believe he would be a great king. better than father himself."

a smile cross your lips at the mention of san.

"i believe he would be a great king, too," you add. you know he will be, and you wish for nothing more than all his dreams to come true.

"brother san seems to have taken a great liking to you," the princess brings up, recalling the signs and body language of her younger brother when he was with you despite your sleeping state and lack of awareness.

an act of affection and fondness she has never seen the prince give anyone before. not even the noble daughters that would show for events.

"oh, no," you deny, shaking your head, but the way your stomach swoops at the statement is real.

"why not?" she tilts her head, a brow raising. "do you not like him?"

"no--i mean, i do. i like the prince as a friend, but anything more than that would be innappropriate, i think." your volume tapers and your eyes shy away from hers, but the soft giggle makes you snap back.

"love is a beautiful thing. you shouldn't run from it, no matter the class difference or adversities. i know my brother wouldn't."

she smiles and pat your shoulder, abruptly taking your hand and leading the way out of the garden.

"so tell me, did you know that the kingdom didn't used to be divided into districts?"

you hum from behind, "actually, i do. i read it in an old history book i found back at the orphanage."

the kingdom used to just be utopia as a whole. no divisions of anything or labels to anyone. but when the capital found out they could cheat the system and hog all resources and supplies by dividing up the nation, the district system was implemented.

and those who lived furthest from the capital suffered the worst due to change, which was why the fifth district, a once fine ground for fishermen and access to the sea, declined overtime due to the lack of available care.

"yes," she mumbles, letting go of your hand and turning around, your feet screeching with the sudden stop. "brother wishes to abolish the system, after mostly everything gets taken care of, of course. by then, none of this 'social class' would matter as much."

you know she means it from the good of her heart; soul just as kind as her brother, but it is not only the struggle of being a fifth district kid, but also the reality of being a no one as compared to a prince.

you get accustomed to the newer routine, waking up the crack of dawn to go help the princess prepare breakfast the best your healing body can. just the smallest, throbbing pinch still there when you sit up, but you're fine nonetheless.

the morning when the sun hasn't even shown its head yet, your body still tired and mind hazy, the opening of the door gets a silent groan out of you as you turn to the source expecting the princess to have something for you so early.

but the sight jolts you from sleep, and you know that it's him, even in the faintest lighting.

"good morning," his voice like velvet has you sitting up, your gaze trained on him the entire time he goes to take a seat at the stool.

"good morning, prince," you return, the smallest amount of joy hiding in your delivery because you really are so happy to see him again.

he went back to the princely attire coloured in white, and his hair a slicked back kind that makes him so handsome, although some strands are loose and slightly messy from the many days gone by.

"san," he corrects you, the sound of his actual name so much better when you say it.

"san," you repeat, a short giggle after that he joins along. "so you're back already. how did it go?"

your expression changing to stern that instant, if you stare at him any longer, you might just burn a hole from how serious you are.

"a lot better than i expected," he answers, a thin smile on as he scoots closer. "i really owe it to the king and prince of aurora. if they hadn't took pity in me, i don't know what else i would've done. but for some reason, they chose to believe in me, and i really am so grateful for that."

he must've been so scared but unwilling to show it. unwilling to give away the fear that the kingdom in his hand is so close to crumbling down by a mere inch, everything could fall apart just like that.

but he had to persist through the hardships and doubts; masking any weaknesses because it would scare away the people if he did. if the ruler of the kingdom itself barely has any faith in the situation.

you reach for his hand, the stronge urge to comfort him as the soft look on you melt into his.

"san, they believe in you because they can see that you're capable. and i believe as well, that you from now on, you will make utopia a better place for the people."

he thinks that you always have such a way with words; how they always make him feel so warm and at ease every time. it's never felt so easy with anyone before.

"y/n," he calls almost in a whisper, taking his hands out of your grasp to now enclose yours. "i apologize for not visiting you. but as soon as i returned and had cleared everyhing with the royals of aurora, i came to you immediately."

"no. it's okay. you have a duty as the prince of the nation, i totally understand. there's no need to apologize."

you can feel his grip on you getting tighter, his eyes a type of desperate but also affectionate.

"but still, you saved my life. you traded yours for mine. to me, you're just as important."

you're surprise by the confession, an array of butterflies dancing in the pit of your stomach and you can see the prince growing more tense, but nonetheless, he persists.

"before i go any further, can i ask you one question first?"

you nod at that. "go ahead."

"you and jongho..." he starts, only to thin out before trying again, "are you guys... dating? or, well, do you like him?"

he's nervous and if he wasn't holding you, he would probably start fidgeting to hide the fact.

"me and jongho?" you quirk an eyebrow, failing to hold back the snicker from the thought while the prince just stares dumbfoundedly.

"i love jongho, but he's more like family than anything. we've been through a lot together but i can't see him in that light."

you've given similar answers out a couple times, especially to the other servants who thought you both had a crush on each other.

the prince's chest drop in relief and you can't hide the amusement you get from it.

"what? you thought me and jongho had something?" you can't stop giggling.

"well, i just had to make sure," he says, a hint of embarrassed and shy that is incredibly cute.

he wouldn't tell you that the one time he actually decided to come in the midst of everything, jongho was already by your side and if you didn't look so happy, he wouldn't have went back because he could tell jongho is someone special to you.

"so?" you await what he has to say, the eagerness only making him more nervous.

the grip on you loosening up to a more softer but more intimate one, one of his thumb running over your hand before he speaks.

"i know this might be too sudden and we haven't known each other for long, but, if your heart isn't taken by anyone, i'd like to ask for a vow."

you just stare ahead and wait for him to finish the sentence, your heart beating exceptionally loud.

"i understand it's a bit abrupt, but... i-i've never felt this way with anybody else. there's something special when i'm you, and i'd like to ask for a vow; a promise that we'll reserve our hearts for each other."

he's so scared, willing to take the chance at first because he will regret it if he doesn't. but now, he's afraid he might've ruined whatever he had with you in the first place, retracting immediately when there's only silence from you.

"but it's not an obligation. you don't have to. i'm just--"

"--i would love to," you cut, watching the panic on his face dissipate that instant.

"really?"

"yes. i would love to," you assure once again, the thinnest smile crossing your lips that soon turns bigger when he returns one.

he's absolutely over the moon to know the feeling is mutual; that what he felt and got from the time together wasn't just because you were compelled to treat him equal to his title.

that something more came out of it.

"but..." you mumble, the smile fading when reality sets in again. "is this going to be okay? you're a prince, and i'm just... me."

"of course it's going to be okay. i don't care who or what you are," he comforts, delivery incredibly passionate, you can't fight it. "but more importantly, before you give me your words once and for all, i need to know if you'll be okay with the conditions first. you can be honest. i won't be upset because i would never try to hold you back regarding anything."

"i'm listening," you acknowledge.

"the citizens of utopia have decided to give me a chance. that chance is not only to salvage the nation, but to also prove to them that i'm capable of leading and won't repeat the same mistakes those who came before we did. i don't know how long it's going to take; specifically how many years. but i will crack down on any remaining harmful outlaw members, i will be traveling in and out of the kingdom a lot, and i will be working on making this nation a better place for everyone. that is something i promised to do, and i will do just that."

he takes a deep breath and start again, eyes on yours. "so if you don't want to wait, i won't hold it against you. if there's things or someone better out there waiting for you, you don't have to accept my proposal. but just if you do... if you're willing to wait for me, once the nation is in a stable state and i don't have to stress too much about being all over the place, i promise then, that i will ask for your hand in marriage."

the bold declaration does take you by surprise, hard to grasp that the prince of all people would want to marry you.

"i know it's a lot to take in," he says, "but you don't have to give me an answer now. whenever you're ready."

you shake your head.

"no--i mean, i would love to. no matter how long i have to wait, i think it'll be worth it. after all, the nation is your priority and the people needs you."

he's taken aback by how fast you made up your mind, but overjoy that you want it just as much as he does. he can't be any happier.

"you're sure you want to do this?" he asks again just to be sure, but crossing his fingers you don't just so happen to change your mind.

you nod earnestly.

"i'm sure. besides, i doubt any guy would ever be interested in me let alone want to get married."

he chuckles, a sound you can to listen all day.

"even if they are, they can't get you now. so i don't want to see any of them trying to woo you or something. and you can't give in because you already gave me your words."

it's your turn to laugh, the jealousy endearing on him.

"well how would i know you'll keep your words, too? what if i wait and wait until i'm a grandma with grey hair only for you to take it back? marry someone else instead and say you don't want me anymore?" you tease.

"tskk," he sneer, "that won't happen, because i would never promise anything i knew i couldn't do. so you don't have to worry."

a reassuring smile spreads across his lips as so does yours, seconds passing by when the silence consumes the room and the both of you just stare at each other, completely smitten.

you notice the slightly fallen strands covering his eyes, going to move it with your finger but your hand stopping at his cheek after, a staring contest ensuing before something comes over you, leaning over to deliver a kiss to his other cheek.

when you pull back, the shy and flustered reaction of the prince brings another giggle out from you.

"i believe you, then. go and show everyone that they made the right choice in giving you a chance. go and make the nation a better place for the citizens. no matter how long, when you come back, i'll be right here... for you."

age 20:

you're twenty years old when the district system is abolished, and when you're nearing twenty-one, it will have been a year since you've spoken to the prince, and will be a few months that you've last seen jongho.

he had been given an opportunity to stay at the castle as one of the prince's permanent companions and took it.

as for you, you moved back to what used to be the fifth district, your heart and soul still full of regard for the place no matter how far you run because every last memory of your parents are rooted here.

you didn't want and couldn't ask for anything in return for the loyalty to the royal family during their toughest time, only taking the coins they had kindly insisted on giving and proceeded to find somewhere to settle. make a life for yourself.

the first few months after declaration of adjustments were as tough for anyone else as it was for you. no matter how positive of an effect, changes are always difficult.

the nobles having to reclaim their homes again after migrating from fear of the outlaws; the party finally retreating, and the former having to piece everything back together with the thought in mind that everything won't be the same, but it will be fair.

the lower districts benefitting the most from the changes but time is their biggest adversary, because though good things are coming, they're not going to come in an instant. having to wait days, months, years, for the full glory to show can be defeating.

but nevertheless, it's coming, and tomorrow will be better than yesterday and so forth. a year later and you can already notice the difference, especially the sea that once gave up on the nation ready to ripple once more.

where you're currently at, you couldn't have done it without the help of those around you. hongjoong who gave you full rights to his hideout in the fifth district because he won't have the use for it anymore, having also been promoted to work alongside the prince.

and with the coins the royal family gave you, you put it into materials to hone the skill you're best at, now finally making a living off sewing and embroidery.

over the year, you've renovated the small shack to your liking with the knowledge you carried from your father, building something for yourself you can call home.

you can still recall that feeling; the first sinking realization of being alone and the taste of freedom. you no longer belonged to somebody or owed anything to anyone. no longer the poor kid just waiting for a better life.

you were your own person, and it feels amazing to be free, though you think it would be even better if he was there.

the thought of him crossing your mind every couple of days, wishing for nothing but only the best for him, hopeful that one day, he will return to fulfill the promise.

"those are some fine handkerchiefs you have there," a young man's voice stops you, spinning around to greet him with a smile.

"you crafted them yourself?" he asks, his tone a type of mischievious that you don't even read into.

"yes," you simply reply, always putting on your best behavior when there's a possible customer. "would you like to take a look at them for yourself?"

"i'd love to."

you untangle the basket from your arm and start going through the many fabrics of your creation.

"wow. not only is the creator herself beautiful, but so are the creations. i've never seen these kind of patterns before," he comments, a smirk on that is both amused and flirty, you can't help the way your cheeks immediately reddens.

the man only seems to find the sight even more endearing as a snicker bubbles out of him while you're still just standing there because you've never met someone so shameless before.

you're about to say something when an arm is thrown around your shoulders instead, turning to the source and your body an immediate mix of relieved, joy, and a skipping heartbeat.

"san..." you say by natural instinct, his unreadable expression meeting yours before moving to the young man in front.

"i'm sorry, i told her to not go wandering by herself but she wouldn't listen. let's go back, honey."

he snatches the basket out of your hold with his other hand and hauls you back the other way.

"i've only been gone for a year and you're already flirting with another man?" he accuses once you're able to flee from his clutch, his steps following right behind you as a pout overtakes his face.

"i wasn't flirting. i was trying to make money," you weakly defend, focus on the path back to your place that you believe the word 'cottage' would be more fitting for.

"you're way too beautiful and talented to be out there spending your days talking to young men."

"pfft," you blow, "and you're way too handsome and princely to be traveling everywhere and going to other kingdoms in the presence of other noble and royal daughters."

"and i'd still choose you, baby."

your heels dig the dirt flooring, snapping around from the pet name, a laughter at the verge of coming out.

san can see the amusement on your face, only smirking in response.

"what? i know you like being called that."

this time, you really do laugh and he follows right after, absolutely in love with everything about you. whether that's snarking back or laughing at him.

"whatever you say, prince," you poke more fun at him before dragging him by the wrist into your place.

"cute what you've done," he pass a comment while you put the basket away.

"yes. and i have just about everything i need."

it's just a little bigger than the hideout back at what used to be the third district, but it has the same convenience in that it's close to the river, cutting out trips to the bathhouse which saves a lot of time.

he nods, the dimpled smile never leaving his face.

"so... what brings you here?" you eventually ask, sitting next to him on your bed, the atmosphere shifting because despite enjoying the banter and mischief of it all, you miss him and haven't seen him in over a year.

"we just returned and arrived at the port this morning, so i wanted to come visit and see how you're doing. you know, to make sure no one was trying to sweep you off by your feet."

you playfully land a slap to his shoulder, snickering.

"you're ridiculous. all year long and my love life is so dry, but the one day someone acknowledges me, you just have to come back," you reply with sarcasm.

"i'm sorry to ruin that for you, but you can't take it back. you promised to marry me, and i will make sure every guy in the kingdom knows that."

you remember the first time meeting san, his state of grief making him almost an entirely different person. quiet, stoic, and always in distress, it's the most wonderful surprise that he's actually a child at heart.

able to let loose once in a while and just have fun.

"no need to. you won't have any competitions at all."

he chuckles quietly at that and closes any remaining distance between you two.

"you speak too lowly of yourself when you're the most beautiful girl i've ever seen."

you bat your eyelashes, shying away from his gaze. you just blush way too easy.

he chuckles at the sight and moves the subject along, "but i also came because i have good news. the king and prince mingi of dune have agreed to a treaty."

"really? t-that's great!" you stumble your wording, beyond happy for him because this was everything he wanted and planned for.

"yeah. it wasn't easy but the fact we have aurora did most of the convincing. dune was... interesting to say the least," he says, briefly recalling the month he spent at the kingdom.

"you did it, though" you smile. "it's only going to get better from now on."

"i hope so. but it seems the real challenge just began. this place is going to need a lot of work."

"that, it is. but for now, you just need to relax. rest a little and eat if you already haven't. i can make you some soup, would you like that?"

he nods.

"i would love that."

he loves how comfortale and easy it is with you. when the weight on his shoulders gets too heavy, he can always rely on you to make it better, even if just for a bit.

"so where do i sleep?" he asks, walking back in after washing himself by the river with the towel you gave him.

the day had been nothing short of a dream, eating and cleaning together and just small exchanges that multiplies the butterflies in your stomach.

you wish everyday was like this.

"the floor," you joke, the response making him scowl.

"i'm carrying the nation on my back and you're gonna make me sleep on the floor?" he throws the towel over his shoulder, his wet strands of hair swaying along with his movements.

"that bed looks big enough for the two of us." he points with his chin. "besides, we're gonna get married anyways."

you roll your eyes, snatching the towel from him as you go to ruffle his wet hair with it, his shout of protests underneath coming out muffled.

"fine." you land the fabric back around his neck, crawling into bed and scooting to the wall to make space.

he lays down and faces you, your gaze burning into each other's when he cranks out a smile.

"i'll be leaving in the morning and you might not see me again for a while after. don't you think you should give me something to remember you by?"

your brows furrow, your mind jumping to conclusion considering the position you guys are in and the tone in which he said it.

"i'm not gonna have sex with you," you spit, prompting the loudest laughter ever from him, followed by confusion from you.

"no, of course not. i was talking about another of your handkerchiefs."

"oh..." you murmur, feeling embarrassed.

"not until we get married at least. then, we can do it," he states with confidence, the thought of taking you to bed and inserting control another way is tempting, and he can't wait for the day.

you smack his chest lightly, as flustered as you are, you can't help the giggle that slips out.

a few seconds of silence pass by before he starts moving closer, his breath ghosting your skin and finger going to caress your cheek.

"i really do want to kiss you right now, though," he confess, "if that's okay with you."

you nod as much as your pillowed head allows you to.

"that's okay with me."

you close your eyes shut, trying to keep from flinching as you await his kiss, moments later only for his lips to crash against yours, his hand moving to your jaw and his body pressing forward as the kiss deepens.

you kiss him like it's the last kiss between you and him; like your life depends on it, the bed creaking under as he takes it upon himself to connect your bodies.

he pulls back much to your disappointment, both of your chests heaving and trying to catch your breath, his forehead bumped with yours and tip of his nose brushing your own.

"good enough," he speaks, his breath still not yet returned, "any more than this and i might not be able to contain myself."

you giggle, placing a soft peck on his cheek, flashing one last smile.

"goodnight, prince."

"have a safe trip, and take care of yourself," you bless, blue in your heart as san makes his way back to you after speaking to the coachman.

all the laughters and butterflies of yesterday won't be experienced again until who knows how long. he will be away after this, and you will miss him dearly.

you wish he could stay but you know he can't. he has something bigger and better to worry about.

he stops before you, melancholy in his eyes as well. he doesn't want to leave you but he has to. and as much as he wants to take you along, he can't let you bear the same responsibilities and weight.

he wants for you to be there, when he already made everything better.

"you take care of yourself, too." his hands naturally finding itself cupping your cheeks. "don't overwork yourself."

"i won't."

you place your own hands over his, desperate to salvage his touch for one last time.

"when can i expect to see you again?" you ask.

"i don't have a definite answer, but i'll be back. i promise."

you two share one last kiss before you watch him go off, blue still in your heart, but you know that someday, he'll come back, and it will be to stay.

age 23:

you're twenty-three years old when there's a knock at the door one suspicious morning.

living in the middle of nowhere, and even over the years, you're only able to count on one hand the range of selection there is when it comes to who it could be.

"hongjoong?" you squint, the man you haven't seen in forever looking slightly more buffed; mature, his hair styled and attire new and shiny.

"great seeing you again," he greets, still on horseback and glancing down at you.

"would you like to come inside? for some tea or a drink?" you ask, figuring it's only proper etiquette you do.

"i'm good. i only came to deliver something."

you continue squinting, one hand shielding your eyes from the early sun, reaching out when hongjoong hands you a letter and unfolding it.

"an invitation from the prince?" you read, incredulity as you shoot up to look at him.

"yes. the prince is finally accepting his accession to king and the coronation will be held a week from now. that is all i have for today. i have to head back soon."

you have so many more questions but hongjoong already turns his back before you can ask them, settling for staring at the ink in awe when the sound of his voice picks your head up again.

"i hope to see you there. the prince will be expecting you."

you leave for the capital the following day, packing only essentials and enough coins, taking along pearl, the white horse you had purchased a year back for traveling purposes.

there's been a lot changes in the four years since san took the reign, all of them for the better, of course.

some of the homes have been revamped, some new ones added, and everywhere you passed, there are greens and beauty in each sceneries.

the citizens look happier, kids a lot less miserable and even those in the orphanages are coming around to the new implements along with those in progress to solve overcrowding.

members of the outlaws have dwindled over time and quieted.

for the first time in hundreds of years, utopia is able to live up to its name in some form; a place of ideal perfection.

so you couldn't fret too much; be upset that in the three years that have passed, san's only visited you once. because if it wasn't for him, the nation wouldn't have been able to achieve the current state.

you travel to the capital with hope, expectation, and excitement at the fact you will be seeing him again; a strong belief that everything will feel just the same as last time.

you stop at inns to rest when the nights fall and start again at dawn, reaching the destination in five days total, the day before san's coronation.

there isn't any difference to the castle, not even a bit. a touch of nostalgia hitting you when thinking back to the event four years ago.

entrance is easy to get through, showing both of the guards who seems to recognize you, the letter.

tying your horse to the nearest tree, you proceed to the door with a pounding heart, banging on it twice before the castle door creaks from the other side, absolutely no idea who the person could be.

"y/n!"

your eyes widen at the sight, that nervousness replaced by delight.

"jongho!"

before he can get another word out, you're already in his arms, the warmth of your best friend something you missed greatly in the full year you haven't seen him.

you can him hear giggling in your hair, pulling away to that goofy smile of his as one settles on your lips as well.

"you came," he simply says.

"of course i did."

jongho takes you inside, your nosy eyes wandering the interior that's also the same as before but still dazzling with all its history, cracks in some of the wall, and antiques.

you greet the queen and the princess who only gets more beautiful by the years, them welcoming you with warm smiles and you can tell immediately the new changes other than their appearances.

they sound happier; no other burdens or weight pulling them down, carrying it around like a haunting that won't go away.

you walk around the courtyard with jongho after, finally a time and place to catch up. all those time of being with each other, you didn't think you could survive if he wasn't by your side, but to have gone four long years only seeing him once in a blue moon, you'd say that's some character development.

"how are things here for you?" you ask him, walking alongside shoulder to shoulder.

"amazing," he answers almost instantly, "it's crazy. i never thought i'd get the chance to work in the capital, but the royal family's castle? with the prince? it's everything i've ever wanted."

you can't stop smiling, his tone telling of just how much he means what he just said.

"that's great. i'm happy for you. you did always say you wanted all those training to go into something."

he nods.

"and you? how are things down there?"

"much better. it's coming together. the people's the most tame i've ever seen them."

jongho hums in acknowledgement.

"i heard you're going to become queen," he suddenly brings up, and you almost choke in return.

"and who the hell said that?"

"--i did."

the familiar voice that isn't jongho makes the both of you turn around, your stomach dropping and heart palpitating because you know all too well who it belongs to.

you can only stare breathless as he takes a step closer, your throat dry.

he's just as mesmerizing as you remember but like hongjoong, time have passed and he has gotten more bulky, manly, and handsome if that's even possible.

"i'm glad to see you can come," he mumbles, a charming smile on that render your knees weak.

jongho clears his throat, attempting to hide a smirk as he goes to excuse himself politely and walks back inside, leaving you stranded in the presence of san.

everything still feels the same with him.

"yeah. i got the letter," you reply, glancing around the empty area, "though it seems i might have gotten a tad excited."

he snickers, and oh... how you have missed the sound.

"you're the only one i gave a personal invitation to," he unveils.

"oh." your eyes swell, only to break the tension after. "then i guess i'm special."

"you are," he assures, closing the distance and taking one of your hand. "i have promised you that once utopia is stable enough, i will ask for your hand in marriage."

you watch as he goes to pull something out of the pocket of his suit, one of his knees pointed to the ground, his entire body falling with it.

"and now that i've finally reached that goal... y/n, will you marry me?"

it takes a moment for you to process everything, overwhelmed with joy and happiness before you can properly nod.

"yes. of course."

and he will marry you, after the rise to king and acceptance of his title as the ruler of utopia, keeping the promise just as he did to every others.

permanent taglist: @moonchele

a/n: not me talking shit abt wanting broken era to be over only to go & write a 19k oneshot. but i loved writing this & had a lot of fun bc it was v different from what i'd usually write

#i don't know shit abt politics #so go easy #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst #choi san x reader #san x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

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artist-issues · 2 months

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Hi! First off, I want to say that I love how you analyze media and having really been enjoying reading all your posts :) I just wanted to ask—do you have tips for people who what to learn to think more critically about media and just storytelling in general? Like, are there questions that you usually ask yourself when looking at a character's journey or the messaging behind the movie? Just trying to learn how to better analyze the media I consume, as well as improve on pinpointing the specific reasons why I like the movies that I like, instead of just saying "Well, I liked it. It was great" and leaving it at that 🙈.

New favorite question!

I love that you want to know why you like something. I love it. I think so many people are ready to give a defense for why they dislike something, and the blood-sport of “picking it apart,” but then they don’t really know how to reverse the process and be like, “here’s why I liked this other thing,” or they can’t speak accurately and clearly about why they like something, which is a huge shame, and sort of raises other questions about critical thinking but you’re not doing that! So you’re already awesome!

I am not an expert. I could be 100% wrong about everything I do, and all the questions I ask. I only went to a normal amount of education for this. It does not mean I have all the insight and the good advice.

BUT you asked, and I love talking about it, so it’s going to be long, and here’s what I do:

Step 1. I Just Watch the Movie.

That’s it. Just take it in. No expectations. Do not try to figure out what’s wrong with it or what’s right with it. Don’t even assume there’s such a thing as “right” or “wrong” the first time you watch it. It is THE hardest thing to do, once you gain some “knowledge” of storytelling. But truthfully, if you go into a story with your eyes and ears open for flaws, or a checklist of “Right Things to Do,” then you’ve already lost any objectivity. You’ll be so busy going “good thing, bad thing,” that the movie will never be able to establish an “emotional train of thought,” with you. Because you’re already taking it piece by piece, like eating a burger one ingredient at a time, instead of taking a full bite. It’s meant to be one-successive-thought/feeling-on-top-of-another, but you’re picking it apart before it’s over.

Plus, you’re not letting the story do what it was meant to do—get under your mental guard. And that’s the whole point of stories. So in a way, if your Critical Analysis Cap is already conciously on, even the best movie in the world won’t come off as the best movie in the world. C.S. Lewis talks about this in one of his essays. I’ll try to simplify it:

You can’t decide if you like something or dislike something until after you’ve eaten it. You certainly can’t really experience “what ingredients it’s made of” before you’ve eaten it. You can make some observations about a food without ever putting it in your mouth and experiencing it—I can look at a brownie and go, “there’s chocolate in there.” I can cut into it and go, “oh, but it’s tough.” But I haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of experiencing that brownie until I just shut up and put it in my mouth.

That is the hardest part and the part I suck at the very most. My suckiness at this part is why my friends hate watching movies with me. But on some level, you have to suspend your worldview, your opinions, and try to just listen.

It’s also why (this is just an aside) I struggle when people recommend a movie to me. Because they usually go, “what do you think of this movie?” And then I say, “I haven’t seen it.” And then they go, “oh you should watch it!” And I know for a fact that they’re going to ask me how it was, and my answer needs to be prepared—so then I’m already handicapped before I even try it. But it can’t be helped. And that’s just food for thought.

Step 2: “What Are They Trying to Tell Me?”

The only thing you need to think, when you go into analyzing a movie, before anything else, is, “They are trying to tell me something.”

That’s it. It’s just active listening, but in a movie. I think that’s like 90% of it. And so many people don’t know how to do that—in life, in conversation—let alone when they watch something. It’s the movie-watching equivalent of “stop thinking about what you’re going to say or how you’re going to respond to me, and just listen to what I’m saying.”

Remember, the whole storytelling team behind a movie or the writer of a novel sat down in front of a blank piece of paper. There was nothing there. They made several hundred thousand tiny and huge decisions to put something in front of you. Almost nothing you see in the story is there on accident. Because none of it would be there if they didn’t decide to transplant what they were thinking and feeling into you.

That’s all a movie is. That’s all a story is. It’s communication. It’s an essay. It’s a sermon. It’s a song. You can figure out what it means—but only if you start out by accepting, on good faith, that it means something.

I’m not saying every story of movie will have a well-thought-out meaning. I’m saying, you’re going into it as if it does. In good faith. And then the storytellers will either reward that good faith because they had something to say—or they’ll let you down. But you go in assuming they won’t let you down, that this is an agreed-upon conversation you two are having.

That takes a level of humility I don’t always have. Because if I know Christopher Nolan is directing a movie, at this point, it’s hard for me not to go into that movie with the story-version of this mindset: “well, I know he’ll have a lot of ‘big words’ to use, but nothing to actually say.” It’s hard to do.

But you have to do it, or else the risk of you projecting what you believe the movie is about onto it, or missing the meaning entirely, is astronomically high. You’ll watch a Disney Princess movie that’s total trash (I can’t stop coming for Wish) and you’ll see everything you’ve always wanted to see in it—because you’re projecting what you hope they’re saying onto the movie (when actually they were saying something very silly.) Or you’ll be like me watching The Dark Knight for the first time and trying desperately to wrestle my brain into “believe he’s trying to say something to you and not just snag your emotions on meaningless twists”-mode the whole time.

And the best way to figure out what they were trying to tell you is to start with where they succeeded in making you feel something. Wherever they succeeded, that’s where you’ll start looking for clues.

Step 3. What Did You Feel?

Sometimes you have to skip this step because you couldn’t get Step 1 right. You couldn’t just watch the movie, you were “out of the movie,” the whole time you were watching it. Sometimes that’s not your fault—sometimes a movie is so bad or so disingenuous that you can’t do Step 1, and you have to settle not for “What Did You Feel?” (Because you felt nothing) but “What Did They Want Me To Feel?”

…But if you were able to just watch it and it made you feel something, then this step is about analyzing that.

I recommend starting with a movie you watched when you were a kid—because kids almost never fail at Step 1. Their brains are sponges. Your brain was a willing sponge, you believed that the story was telling you something and you took it in without any conscious thought.

So like, if you felt like crying during the scene in Inside Out where Bing Bong fades away, or you did cry, ask yourself “why?”

The first answer to that question will be “because I liked Bing Bong and now he’s gone, and that’s sad.”

The second one will be: “because I miss my imaginary friend/because I miss my childhood/because I wish I didn’t have to lose memories of good things” etc. And all of that’s true.

But dig deeper. Because that’s exactly how the storyteller wanted you to feel. Reverse-engineer it. Figure out how they accomplished that goal.

Because we all had play-pretend characters when we were kids. We all had childhood friends who aren’t with us anymore. I guarantee you none of them looked like cotton-candy chimeras with hobo jackets. So why did you respond to Bing-Bong’s death as if you were losing something personal? How did they get you to believe that was happening, enough to make you sad, about a character you met an hour ago?

Because you got to know him well over the past hour. You got to know things about him that were easy to believe, things that were in common with your life experiences. You know what he wants, what he doesn’t like. You know where he was hoping to go, and what he was afraid of.

That ties into the next point, but you can do this with things that don’t have anything to do with the character—the other things that make up a movie.

What music was playing during the part where you Felt Something? Was that same melody or motif in another part of the movie—and if it was, what was happening in that part? Are they connected somehow?

What color predominates the screen during that part?

What is the lighting like? Does anything make the lighting different than what we’ve seen so far? Is the lighting creating interesting shapes—how would you describe those shapes?

Where are we? Is it a significant location? What makes the location significant?

Are we losing something? Why does it feel like a loss? Are we gaining something? Why does it feel like a gain? What was missing before that we’re glad is here now?

Those are just a few questions. Because remember, by answering them as honestly and simply as you can, you’re figuring out that the storytellers chose those things, and you’re figuring out why that was the right choice.

Do some compare-contrast: when Bing Bong fades away, what color is he turning before disappearing?

Deep blue, almost purple, right? If you can’t figure out why that would be a good choice, do some compare-contrast. What if the color he was vaguely dissolving into was green? That would look kind of sickly, or it would evoke feelings of “poison gas.” Weird for a moment that’s supposed to be sad. What if the color was yellow? Joy is yellow, in the movie. So pretty directly, that would be the wrong color because it would be kind of pretty, and it would make the audience feel a little “ooo” like they do when the Beast transforms in yellow light. But blue? Who’s blue in this movie? Sadness. Obviously. Sadness is blue—it’s very human to respond that way. You can do that same “what-if, compare/contrast” with the answer to every question on that bullet point list.

“When Genie is set free and I Felt Something, the location it’s in is on the throne room balcony. Well, why? Why’d the storytellers pick that? Because that’s where they were after the final battle, yeah, but that final battle could’ve been anywhere. Why didn’t the final battle with Jafar finish by having everybody in the throne room? Well, if it had been in the throne room, there would have been a lot of destruction from the final battle laying around. Having ruins behind Genie while he looks all sparkly and triumphant would’ve been a little odd. Plus, there would’ve been a roof. Would he have gone “I’m freee—hee!!” and flown out a window? That might’ve felt silly. But out on the balcony, he’s looking sparkly and triumphant against an open sky. Ohhh, an open sky makes you think of endless opportunity. That’s so smart. Even my subconscious was convinced, by the sky behind him, that something momentous and liberating was happening in this scene. And not just for Genie, but Aladdin is finally being “freed,” too, because they know who he is and love him anyway, and Jasmine is being ‘freed,’ too, because the law—“ Okay that’s enough, you get the idea.

Let’s go into the really fun part.

Step 4. I Look At The Characters

A good storyteller uses something that the audience can relate and empathize with for their main focus. And that’s usually a character (doesn’t have to be. You can describe a tree with personification in a poem, and a human will empathize with that tree’s “life,” or situation, and boom—suddenly you have a story.)

A super talented writer I know named @doverstar once wrote an entire story from the perspective of I think a paperclip? And I still remember it to this day. (Specifically I remember a crazy straw wrapper in the story, but you get my point.)

SO! Characters are the easiest and best way for a storyteller to get the person they’re trying to communicate with to engage. Which means, looking at characters is the easiest avenue to understand a story by. Usually, the storyteller jammed the whole message of the story into their characters in neat, interesting little packages. You just have to unpack them.

Here’s how I do it, roughly:

A. Figure Out What the Character Wants

In my post about The Lion King, I said Simba wants to be free to do whatever he wants all the time. And that’s true. But how did I figure that out? I’ll show you. It’s plain, because the storytellers wanted you to know.

Look At Dialogue - What a character says almost always gives you hints to what they want—even if they never say what they want out loud. Kids are most likely to say it, point-blank. So cub-Simba says, “But I thought a King could do whatever he wants.” But adults usually don’t say exactly what they want, because by that time, they’re either confused about what they want or they’re insecure about what people will think of what they want—whatever. The point is, pay attention to what a character says. Simba also sings, later, “free to do it all my way!” You can also find a lot out by what a character doesn’t say. Aladdin could’ve said, “yeah, well, at least I’m not a pompous jerk!” when Prince Achmed calls him “worthless.” That would’ve been more of his gutsiness, and he would’ve been right, like a hero should be when calling out a bully. But it wouldn’t have told you anything about what he thinks about what Achmed just said. Instead, he goes, “I’m not worthless!” …People who really believe obvious things don’t say those obvious things. Because they’re obvious. So when Aladdin says, to a closed door and an empty street, “I’m NOT worthless,” you realize that he’s just trying to convince himself. What he means is, “I don’t want to be worthless, and I don’t want to be seen that way.” Because on some level, he is afraid that he is worthless. See how you can tease that out based on what Aladdin says? Then it makes sense that, from that moment on, Aladdin does everything to prove he’s not worthless, or to make people believe he’s not—he goes to great lengths to preserve that image. That’s his motive. Just like Simba disobeys his father and Zazu because he wants to prove he’s a powerful Prince who can do whatever he wants. That’s his motive at the beginning of the movie. You can also learn a lot about what a different character says about another character. And whether or not they’re portrayed as right or wrong. When Prince Achmed says Aladdin is “worthless,” you don’t believe him. He’s drawn in gross curvy lines and he whips children and kicks poor people. You’re not inclined to believe he tells the truth, on top of all that. So the storytellers don’t want you to think Aladdin is worthless—they want you to believe that Aladdin thinks he’s worthless, on some level.

Look at Actions - Actions do speak louder than words. When a character is presented with a decision to make, look at what road they take.

Look at what that says about them. For example, when Andy Dufresne chooses to play music for all the people at Shawshank, even though it’s definitely going to get him in trouble, or when he dares to approach and talk to the abusive prison guard just for a few beers, you learn something about him. It might be confusing, and it might take cross-referencing that action with the fact that he’s digging himself a way out while everyone else is accepting their sentence. But you’ll see that he could have just done what everybody else did. Got through his sentence with the bare-minimum of work. Kept himself busy with any old thing. But that’s not what the storyteller has him do. The storyteller had him continue to bring new, life-lived things into the prison. He creates a space for people to learn and better themselves, he wheedles beers in just for the enjoyment of them, he’s beaten for the sake of music being played. The idea is that he’s going to keep pushing and living, reaching for more, instead of settling, like a man who’s already dead. So then by the time he digs his way out of Shawshank, you believe it. You’re like, “yeah, Andy would do that. I’ve seen him go to great lengths to live this whole time.” Through his actions, and the actions he doesn’t take even when he could, you figure out his motive.

Watch for the Change - Not every character changes. But when a character starts saying something that’s opposite to the kinds of things they said at the beginning, take note. When the character starts doing something they wouldn’t or couldn’t do at the beginning, take note. Miles Morales tries to jump off a building as his first test of being Spider-Man, and he can’t, he goes to a shorter building. Later in the movie, he jumps upside-down off of one. The change in action demonstrates a change in motive—he used to be focused on not-failing. Now he’s focused on taking action.

I’m sorry, I know this is already a long post, but wanna see it all come together?

(Dialogue) On Miles’ first day in class a girl points out that his shoes are untied, and Miles says, “I know. It’s a choice.” He leaves his shoes untied on purpose. (Action.) He also tries to fail in school on purpose. (Action and Dialogue: His teacher spells it out with her dialogue “You’re trying to quit. And I’m not going to let you.”) Then later when Mils tries to run and jump off a short building as Spider-Man, his shoes are still untied. Why? He does things sloppily on purpose. He leaves his shoes untied the same way he tries to fail tests he knows he can pass—because it’s easy. Because you can’t fail at something risky if you don’t try. So he trips and falls off the building. (Action.) That’s Miles’ motive. He’s got “Great Potential,” but he could succeed, but he chooses not to because he’s afraid of failure. Then later, when he leaps headfirst down a skyscraper, did you notice his shoes? They’re tied. (The Change.)

All from a pair of shoes.

Someone had to draw this kid’s shoes, before anyone knew what he would be wearing, and decide why it mattered. Someone had to pick what dismissive line a kid would say to him on his first day of school—and they had to pick exactly what words he would use to respond.

They’re trying to tell you something. All you have to do is believe that, and then you’ll start to not only hear what they’re saying, but appreciate how they choose to say it.

B. Figure out Who a Character Is

This one you can find clues for in the same three things: Dialogue, Actions, The Change. (If there is a change. There isn’t always.)

A character like Stitch is easy to analyze. Other characters straight up say (Dialogue) “You were built to destroy, you have no place among us, you wreck everything you touch, there is nothing inside you that is good.” Then he makes abominable choices (Action) pushes little girls down, rips up toys, chews on the heads of other aliens, actively tries to murder alien cops. But he also looks sad after a night of destroying things (Actions) and asks Lilo to explain to him a book about an ugly duckling (Dialogue? He sort of grunts.) So you’re starting to notice solid character traits: Stitch is evil, Stitch likes being evil, but Stitch feels empty being the way he is. Then when the Change comes, it’s meaningful, and it gives you a hint as to what the storytellers were trying to say.

You get a sense of what Stitch would do, what Stitch wouldn’t do—and you can ask why. With Stitch, it’s just because that’s how he was created by his literal creator. But with other characters, like Cinderella, you’re given background. Her parents taught her to be good and kind regardless of her circumstances. So then when her circumstances get worse and worse, and she chooses to hang on to what she was taught even when the parents are gone, that’s a big deal. And what happens as a result of that “big deal,” what happens as a result of “who the character is” and their “motive,” is our next step!

Remember, you can do this for almost all of the characters. And whichever character gets the most screen-time, what they’re doing during that screentime—all of those things matter.

Step 5: Look at What The Storytellers Reward & Punish

People mess this step up because they mess up Step 2. They forget that the storytellers are trying to tell them something—something specific, something with parameters—and they just start reading their own ideas and reasoning into the characters.

Prime example: people blaming Admiral Holdo for Poe’s actions in Star Wars: The Last Jedi. The whole movie, Poe is doing things that are understandable, but ultimately, foolish. His Character Actions are coming from his Character Motives—which are flawed. Poe believes he should always stand and fight and do what’s heroic. There’s a little pride that goes with that—that he has to be the one to make the stand, or at least to know that there is a heroic plan. But every time he takes these actions, something bad results from it.

Disobeys Leia and Bombs the Dreadnaught -> Every other Pilot dies, and the ship is being tracked anyway. Leia slaps him and tries to tell him to learn a different lesson. Sad or intense music plays. One of the other main characters is majorly negatively affected by the death of her sister in this bombing run.

Sends Finn & Rose on a Mission Without Trusting His Superiors With the Plan -> They Don’t Make It and Nearly Die. His Superiors Trust Him Less.

Staged a Mutiny Necause He Doesn’t Trust Any Plan That’s Not Heroic, Especially if They Didn’t Tell Him First -> The Real Plan is Almost Foiled, Leia Stuns Him.

But some people see all that and they don’t willingly accept that the filmmakers are telling you Poe is in the wrong. They impose the fact that they like him, and they don’t like the purple-haired lady, over the narrative—against all reason, against all odds. They’ve stopped taking in the story, and they’re writing fanfiction before it’s even over. They believe Poe is in the right—if Admiral Holdo had just told him the plan, he would’ve gone alone with it! None of this had to happen!

Actually, the storytellers prove the opposite of that: that Poe would’ve been furious and put a stop to a life-saving plan, because he hates running away. But people are spinning out into “what SHOULD have happened,” or removing one tiny piece of the story and blowing it up and out of context, and judging the whole story on that. If you’re not a big Star Wars fan, consider this: I’ve seen people argue that in Beauty & the Beast, the Enchantress is the real villain and the Beast and his castle are the victims. This is ridiculous. Clearly, the storytellers are telling you that the Beast was in the wrong and the Enchantress was in the right.

They’re telling you this because they design the Enchntress beautifully. They align her with virtues like “value love, be kind to others, be humble,” and they introduce the beast to you with “sneered, selfish, spoiled, unkind, no love in his heart.” They straight up tell you that in the narrator’s voice. You have to believe them, in good faith, if you want to understand what they’re saying.

What about when there’s no voiceover narrating what’s good and bad? No problem. Look at other things. Like I said, look at how Poe is made a fool of by a benevolent and beloved character (Leia) whenever he makes decisions that the storytellers want you to see as bad decisions. Look at the lighting, the location, the colors, and the music during scenes where consequences of a characters’ actions are coming.

That’s what you’re looking for. What does the movie say is good, and what does the movie say is bad? What does the movie say is true, and what does the movie say is a lie?

At the beginning of E.T., the main character is disliked by everybody, including his older brother, because he only thinks of himself and how he feels. By the end, when the kid has taken such careful care of E.T. and reveals it to his big brother, his big brother wants to help him. They’re all brought together. Because the main character stopped doing something that the storytellers disapprove of, which is “thinking only about how you feel,” and he started “thinking about how other people feel” for a change. In the beginning of the movie, he’s lonely, angry, standing in shots that are wide and empty. By the end, he’s flying, beautiful music is playing, and he’s happy. The storytellers reward what they’re trying to convince you is good and right.

Step 6: Are the Storytellers Right?

I always stress remembering this last part. It’s all well and good to lower your defenses and take in a story in good faith. You should not ask this question until you’re done listening, in most cases. Just like it’s well and good to listen to someone with a different perspective than you—you might be wrong, and a story’s main function, like I say on my profile’s pinned post, is to act as a Signpost that Directs You Back to Truth When You’ve Wandered.

But the problem is, fallible humans are telling the stories, and fallible humans are listening to the stories.

So you need to know what you believe, and after the storytellers tell you something, measure it against reality. When Greta Gerwig says, “You Can Be Whatever You Want to Be, Because You’re God,” and she says it with the Barbie movie, is she right? When Cinderella says, “Have Courage and Be Kind, and You’ll Have Hope in the Worst Circumstances,” is the movie right? What if you find yourself in the worst of circumstances one day—you better hope Cinderella didn’t feed you lies. What if there is a God, and it’s not you—you better hope Barbie didn’t feed you lies. I really enjoyed going over this! I’m sorry it was so long. If there’s ever anything more or like, follow-up questions, go ahead and ask! I’ll try to make it briefer next time. Thanks again!

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cinnamonbear22 · 29 days

Text

oblivious love (c.s x reader)

chapter 3

go read the first two parts :)

fem!reader, substance use, underaged, suggestive, fluff, slight harassment

"what if you did these pants with this shirt?" i held up one of the several pairs of pants scattered across matt's bed, as well as a button down i took from his closet. "i think that's the best option"

"yeah, it looks good" he approved finally after showing him at least twenty different outfit combinations he could do.

"finally" i set down the clothes he wanted to wear away from all the other clothing on the bed, and started to put away the other options.

"thank you" he got up from his bed and started to help me put away the array of clothing.

"you're welcome" i smiled up at him while hanging his button up shirts. "if i took a nap would you make sure im up?"

"for sure" he nodded as we finally got the last bit of clothing neatly set away. "you're tired? didn't you just go out to eat?"

"that's why i'm so tired" i rubbed my exposed belly gently, which caused him to laugh a little.

"(y/n)!" nicks voice boomed from downstairs. "where are you?"

i turned back and looked at matt, who looked slightly annoyed. "does he have to be so loud all the time?"

"of course" i smiled and started to head towards the door. "i'm going to watch t.v. if you wanna join me?"

"i will in a bit" he ran his fingers through his hair. "i better shower"

"ill see you down there" i closed matt's door behind me and walked down the steps, looking for nick. he was in the living room on his laptop, the t.v. had a basketball game on while he was typing away. "you're watching the game?" i asked him as i sat down closely to him on the couch.

"no, it was left on from someone earlier" he looked over at me while he had a blanket draped across his back.

"what are you doing?" i reached over and grabbed another blanket, quickly cuddling up in it and leaned against nick.

"editing this stupid video" his eyes focused on the screen which displayed the three of them in matt's car. "you can change the channel, i'm not watching this" he handed me the remote as i watched him cut down clips. once i changed the station and got more comfortable on the couch, i tried my hardest to stay awake.

nick ended up putting his laptop to the side saying he needed a break, and together we both watched a silly reality t.v. show. we'd make comments here and there and laugh, but my eyes were fighting terribly. eventually i gave in, resting my eyes peacefully and letting myself sleep.

"both of you need to get up!" matt's voice frightened my peaceful slumber, as well as a shake on the arm. "i've been trying for like.." he paused as i brought my hands up to my eyes and rubbed them slightly. "ten minutes"

"alright, alright" nicks voice next to me grumbled irritatedly. now that i was fully awake, i realized that me and nick both fell asleep on the couch. my head was still leaned against his side as his feet were propped on the autumn in front of him.

"what time is it?" i sat up and stretched my arms, my senses waking up slowly.

"four thirty-ish" he looked at his phone and sighed. "we're leaving at seven"

"shit..." i threw the blanket off me and quickly stood up in a frenzy.

"you have two and a half hours to get ready" nick got up as well, sort of mocking me that i needed so much time.

"i need all two and a half" i giggled and quickly turned around the couch, heading into my room.

"i'll be in your room in a bit" nick raised his voice as he headed up the steps into his room.

i went to the bathroom and quickly did my skincare before applying the makeup. suddenly i felt like i was in rush, the two and a half hours did not seem like enough time whatsoever.

but i didn't rush my makeup, i took my time with a slightly smokey black eye with a little eyeliner. nick ended up coming to my room halfway through my routine dressed in a white dress shirt with a navy tie that matched perfectly with his pants. he sat on the bathroom sink as we talked back and forth while getting ready.

i decided to leave my hair natural for the event, brushing my fingers through the few knots i had and my face and hair were done after an hour. "what do you think?" i looked over at nick, who was still sitting on the bathroom counter.

"i think you're stunning as always" he looked up from his phone with a little smile, making me smile as well.

"i'm so nervous for some reason" i walked out of the bathroom and went over to the dress that was still draped on the office chair. "i'm not going to know anyone and just be weird and follow you guys everywhere"

"i think you'll recognize some people" nick sat down on the edge of the bed. "you know, you just have to be yourself and everyone you'd talk to is going to love you"

"thank you" i covered my heart and gave him a little hug as he sat limp on the bed. "you're the best"

"i know" he was snarky as he patted my arm in a comforting way. as i changed he covered his eyes like a child, constantly reassuring me that he wasn't peaking, and there's no way he would ever want to. it made me laugh, but once i was changed into the silky black material he helped me tie the back. "god you look amazing!" he screamed and waved his hands with excitement, making me giggle and stare at myself in the mirror.

he stood next to me in the mirror and we both admired ourselves and each other. "we look great" i fixed my hair before slightly posing. nick pulled out his phone with the camera up, so i posed next to him with arm resting on his shoulder and my head tilted. he posted it to his story with the caption, 'my best friend is hotter than urs'

"are you guys almost ready?" chris yelled from what seemed to be the living room.

"yes one second!" nick yelled back as he picked up the black stilettos and handed them to me.

"thank you" i smiled and slid them on my feet, adjusting the straps around my ankles so they'd fit perfect.

i grabbed my phone and lipgloss before following nick out into the main living area where both matt and chris were standing with their backs faced to us on their phones. "everyone hold the applause please, no flash photography" nick announced jokingly while we entered the room, almost as if we were being presented at an award ceremony.

once they turned around, both of their faces had the same exact expression like they were mirrored. both their jaws dropped with joy filled in their eyes and they quickly started throwing compliments at me. "stop my face is going to turn beet red" i held my hands over my cheeks with a big smile. matt was in the outfit i had helped picked out, a black dress shirt with slim khaki-colored dress pants with a popped collar, and black shoes. chris on the other hand clearly got his way, all dressed in black. black dress shirt, black pants, black shoes, and even a black tie.

as we waiting for our uber to arrive, chris and nick wanted us to make a few tik toks all dressed up and of course we did, all of them not really serious at all and us just messing around and showing off our outfits.

matt got a notification that our uber was here, and quickly we headed out towards the door. chris lingered behind me as i trailed behind matt and nick. "i just wanted to seriously let you know you look absolutely gorgeous" he bent down and talked quietly near my ear as we walked into the driveway.

"thank you" i turned my head up and smiled at him, taking notice of his gold jewelry. "you don't wear gold" my finger lightly touched his earring, then his necklace.

"we're really matching now" he smiled and fixed his gold chain, but he quickly held his hand out as we approached the steps.

"you're adorable" i held his hand gently while walking down the cement stairs. matt was already holding the back door for me of the uber. truly, it was princess treatment all around.

i slid into the suv and was a little smooshed in between nick and matt, chris sat in the front and politely was making conversation with the driver. the venue was about twenty to twenty-five minutes away according to the gps, which that gave me plenty of time for my nerves to start shaking up with the amount of overthinking that could be done.

which, unfortunately, that whole car ride was just filled with me thinking about how terrible this night could possibly go. i'm basically just going to be an annoying leech to them because i won't be comfortable with anyone else there. everyone else there, they're all strangers to me. they're probably going to have a ton of people and friends to catch up with, and i'll just be awkwardly there, burdening them.

"what is your issue?" nick tapped my hands that were subconsciously twisting the rings around each of my fingers. "your face is so pale now, you look sick... you're not sick are you?"

"no, no" i quickly felt all the boys eyes on me when nick said that, concern washed over each of their similar faces. "no i'm okay" i waved my hands slightly to try to get all of their attention off of me.

"you're not going to be bothering us at all (y/n)" matt placed his hand on my knee in a consoling way, all of them verbally agreeing with him.

"we literally invited you to come with us, we want you to be with us" chris joined in with the reassurance, and suddenly my nerves were feeling calmer. im not sure how they could always read my mind, but they were always keen to seeing right through me like a translucent sheet. "you've never been a bother to us before, why is now any different?"

"well, i don't know" i shrugged and looked over at nick considering chris's eyes were giving me too much butterflies for right now.

"see, you're overthinking, relax" nick squeezed his hand over both of mine, making me smile a little

"sorry" i sighed and started to nervously fix my hair, trying to get my mind so heavily off the subject.

"don't be, we're going to have so much fun" nicks overall vibes completely lifted me up, his presence to me was completely calming now and i felt so much more relaxed, and now actually excited to go.

after another ten minutes, we slowed down in front of a large club venue where many people were walking in, and loud music was already blasting to where i could hear it inside the car. we all thanked the driver before matt slid out first, holding the door open for me and nick.

my heart started to race a little with seeing the flowing crowd of recognizable people walk in, all seeming to be popular on social media and content creators. there were hardly any windows that could peer into the inside, but it was easy to see the bright flashing multicolored lights spilling out of the doorway as people entered.

i didn't even notice matt and nick walking ahead of me since i was too busy staring at the venue. "you ready?" chris's voice slightly startled my trance, i didn't even realize he was waiting for me.

"yeah" i looked up at him and nodded, the setting sun made him look like he was glowing, and his eyes were accented with the rays. "i still can't believe you got gold jewelry" my fingers reached up and i touched the gold stud earring, my heart racing more from him instead of the crowd.

"what? i had to match" he started to walk now, and i quickly followed next to him. we lost nick and matt within the large sea of people that we were approaching, but we weren't too worried considering we were all going to the same place.

"i feel like there's legit going to be a million people here" i looked around at all the people dressed nicely, thinking of how easy it would be for me to get separated within the crowd.

"it's okay," chris reached down and grabbed my hand before maneuvering through some people to try to get in. "i'm not going to let you out of my sight" he read my mind once again, and i was quick to tighten my grip around his big hand as we were close to the door.

we had to check in with a bouncer since this was a 'private event' even though the whole world seemed to be here. the club was loud, music blasting, people talking, dancing, drinking, everything that would be happening at a club scene was going down before my eyes.

i pulled my hand out of chris's, immediately thinking about the girl he was telling me about. "we probably shouldn't be holding hands" i talked loudly over the music but only so he could hear.

"why not?" he bent down to my level so we could hear each other more clearly.

"that girl you like is here, i don't wanna mess that up" he snaked his arm around my waist and leaned his ear down to me as i spoke, people slightly bumped into us as the scene became more packed by the second.

"you-" chris was cut off by nick and matt, nick quickly linked his arm with mine and yelled down to me.

"lets go get a shot! let's go dance! come on" he dragged me away and i looked behind me at chris who looked a little bit shocked at how quickly i was taken away from him.

"you don't think they'll id?" i held onto nicks arm tightly as we walked through a group, people greeted him from left and right.

"no, it's an open bar" he shouted back down at me. once we approached the bar nick ordered us both shots, well, he ordered us each two shot's. i wasn't complaining, i did love to party, but the whole process of getting ready, arriving, and warming up the event was always nerve racking to me. we downed both the shots quickly, the strong taste making my face cringe slightly and my sense all the more aware.

as we made our way to the dance floor, nick decided to take me around and introduce me to some of his friends. most of them even recognized me from being in older videos and i was flushed by compliments from everyone he introduced me too. everyone was polite and sweet, and i tried the best i could to be just as respectful. i didn't want my small reputation to get ruined.

"should we take more shots?" nick looked down at me with a devious look in his eyes, and i couldn't say no.

after an hour i completely settled into the party, my confidence was peaking from all the compliments i received from nicks friends, and the alcohol was doing its work, turning me into a complete social butterfly.

i wasn't afraid to talk to anyone, dance, walk around by myself (even though nick was always following), and i didn't even feel insecure when someone would take our photo. i felt like i was on top of the world. although, i hadn't seen matt or chris in awhile and i had felt the urge now to go and hunt them down. i looked around for nick but i seen he was in a small group talking. i didn't want to disturb him.

i started to walk away from the dance floor that i had been living on, feeling a little woozy from all the drinks. not to add the flashing lights making it harder to see. "excuse me!?" i began to tap on random people's shoulders, hoping i would find them sooner. "have you seen a group of triplets?" a tall, messy blonde haired boy turned to face me with a drink in his hand.

"i'm sorry?" he cocked a brow, giving me a small up-down look with his eyes.

"i'm sorry" i threw my hands up in defense. "i'm looking for my friends" i looked over my shoulder and then back at him. "they're like," my words felt all mumbled in my mouth, and i began to heat up and sweat more than i already was. "they all look the exact same!" i stumbled over my words a little as the tall boy just laughed down at me.

"the sturniolo's?" he smirked, his brow still cocked a little with confusion.

"yes!" i nodded quickly, my fingers subconsciously playing with the rings that decorated my fingers. "do you know where they are? i seriously can't find them. chris, matt, where are they?"

"you're their friend that pops up in a few videos yeah? (y/n)?" he ignored my question, but i was a little more surprised at the moment that he had known who i was.

"y-yes" i slurred, nodding my head excitedly. "i can't believe you knew my name, that's really sweet of you"

"would you like to get a drink with me?" he reached down and grabbed my fidgeting hand. as his hand held mine, i had instantly felt negative energy coming off of him.

"no, no, i think i had a little too much" i pulled my hand quickly away from him but he only stepped a little closer. "i really need to find my friends"

"come with me ill help you look" he slightly cocked his head to the side towards the door, reaching down once again and taking ahold of my now clammy hands.

"no, i think i can find them, im sorry to bother you" i quickly turned around but was stopped by him grabbing my wrist and pulling me back towards him.

"c'mon" his eyes were hard as he looked down at me. fear overtook my body as i instantly froze, afraid to move or deny him. he was much, much taller than me, definitely stronger than me. i could get hurt if i didn’t listen to him, but i didn’t want to. i felt stuck.

"i-i-" i tried to sputter out, but my words seemed to be taken right out of my mouth when i had felt someone else's hand gently on my waist.

"is there a problem?" chris's voice and touch had quickly sent a whole wave of relief through my body, the guy instantly dropped my hand once he had seen chris's holding the small of my back.

"no man, she's drunk and really wouldn't get off me" the guy quickly defended himself with a lie, my eyes darted up to chris's. the soft, glowing blue eyes that i had seen earlier had disappeared into an cold, piercing stare at the guy in front of me. "you have to control your girl"

"will do" chris guided my waist away from the guy, and we both quickly started to leave the crowded area.

"chris i wasn't on him" i swallowed hard as a few booths came into my vision, but that was quickly blurred by my watering eyes.

"i know you weren't" he chuckled softly and let me slide into the booth first before he sat down right next to me. "are you okay?" his eyes softened now once we made eye contact, his fingers gently brushed hair away from my face.

"yes, i was just trying to look for you guys and asking people where you were and i just really had an urge to see you" i covered my face with my hands, my emotions spilling out all at once. i felt as if i had a motormouth.

"how much did you drink?" he pulled my hands away from my face so we could look at each other, his eyes were still extremely gentle and calming through the vivid flashing lights.

"i-i don't even know!" i cried softly, but he started to laugh a little. "don't laugh at me" i crossed my arms and side eyed him, now truly feeling embarrassed.

"i'm sorry, i'm not laughing at you i swear" he threw his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him, letting my intoxicated self cry on his shoulder. "don't cry please," he brought his hand up to my face and wiped off the tears with his thumb.

i pulled my head off his shoulder and was about to say something, but i was immediately caught in his eyes. everything seemed to replay in my head, from us being children, teenagers, and us now as young adults. he was always dragging me around, letting me cry on his shoulder, taking care of me. the soft purple light on him made it a little hard for me to see, but i knew exactly what i was looking at. his hand on my cheek wiping away my tears, the safe and comforting feelings i got from him… i was looking at my person.

but i had interrupted my own daydream by pushing his hand away from my face, and i wiped off my own tears. "i don't want that girl to get the wrong impression incase she see's" i swallowed the brick in my throat, taking a deep breath and straightening my posture that was slightly leaning towards him.

"she won't" chris seemed slightly offended when i had pulled away, the same facial expression he had given me earlier today when i dropped his hand. "c'mon, want to meet her?" he started to get up without my answer, so i was inclined to go but the major knots piling up in my stomach did not want me to. i had to act like i was unbothered as we weaved through people, his hand reaching back and grabbing ahold of my wrist so i didn't get lost. we were now near the back of the club, where the bathrooms and mirrors were placed along the walls where only a few people lingered in and out. "okay are you ready?" he asked, turning around to face me and i felt my stomach churn. i was definitely going to vomit now if i didn’t before.

"yep" i nodded, and he looked over his shoulder into the crowd.

"close your eyes i want it to be a surprise" he smiled gently but i couldn't even reciprocate the smile back. i closed my eyes anxiously as my throat began to dry up. in this moment, i wanted to do nothing but run away before i seen her. she was going to be stunning, i already knew it. there was no way i would ever compare to her, and i didn't even know who she was. "okay no peeking" he placed his hands over my already closed eyes, and began to softly push me into a different direction. "okay she's near.." he guided me with him to wherever we were walking, but quickly stopped. "okay, okay... she's right here so be my wingman okay?"

"yes okay just uncover my eyes" the snarky tone accidentally slipped, but i didn't even want to uncover my eyes. my heart raced as i felt his hand come off of my eyes but my eyes were still glued shut. i took a small breath to stabilize myself physically and mentally, and slowly peeled open my eyes.

as my vision came into focus, i was standing right in front of myself. "she's so beautiful yeah?" we stared at each other through the reflection of the mirror, my stomach instantly went empty. but not in a bad way.

"stop messing around" i turned to him and hit his chest, my eyes quickly started to look around the empty area for another girl. "if you're messing around you know it's not funny" i looked at him with angry furrowed brows, shaking my head. "chris you know it's not funny to mess with an intoxicated person"

"(n/n) stop" he was still smiling with a blush spread across his face. "i'm serious" he pursed his lips together as he stared sternly down at me. "you are the girl at the party that i am so crazy about but i am so scared of what you are going to say" his face stayed affectionate and serious but his body language was extremely timid. my heart was pounding, pounding louder than my head and the music blaring around us.

it was hard for me to speak. every ounce of knowledge i had was completely gone and my mind only was consuming the words that had just been said to me. my face was quick to change from the angry, confused, tensed muscles and completely softened. my senses were somewhat coming back to me. "you're not lying?" my tone of voice changed as my eyes peered directly into his. i felt like i couldn't even move or breathe.

"no" he swallowed hard, stepping back a little. "you're not giving me a positive response" he scratched the back of his head and looked down at the floor. i've never seen him so shy... "i know that me admitting this could ruin everything between us, everything between my brothers, but i just couldn't hold it back anymore" his eyes looked at me through his lashes but quickly back down at the floor.

confidence and boldness strung along heavy through my veins now, my whole entire heart feeling like it's been lifting up to the sky. "chris" i reached for his hand and pulled him near me so he could hear me better over the loud music. "did i not make it completely obvious?" i began to laugh at myself a little, his face quickly lifting up with a smile. "chris you have no idea" my hands then reached up and cupped his face which was now smiling widely. "oh my god…" i sighed with relief, quickly pulling him down to me and hugging his neck tightly. "you have no idea how much i adore you and how completed i feel when you're with me" he pulled away from me and i rested my hands on his chest gently. "and how much i think of you and want you and need you and how special and handsome and-" i cut myself off from rambling, the words spewing right out of my mouth as he looked down at me with the most pure eyes. "i've always felt so connected with you in a way that i've never felt with anyone else, and i don't think i will ever feel this with another soul"

"i'm sorry i told you in a blaring club. it's not as romantic" he bent down to my ear, slightly snaking his arm around my waist and pulling me in closer to him.

"you could've told me this in a landfill and i would still be just as thrilled" i couldn't help but wrap my arms around him again, hugging him closely to me. "thank you for telling me" i quickly kissed his cheek before resting my head back on his shoulder, enjoying his embrace.

"thank you for not turning me down" he rubbed small circles on my back, but i quickly pulled away knowing i would get too comfortable and just want to be cuddled up with him.

"everyone is going to get suspicious" i smiled up at him, which his face was still pink with now a lipstick kiss stained on his cheek. "oh im sorry," i covered my mouth as i began to laugh a little.

"what? what?" he started to frantically fix his hair, wipe his face, and adjust his chain.

"no, no you look fine it's just i accidentally left a lipstick stain on your cheek" i reached my hand up to wipe it but he pulled his head away.

"no, keep it" he stood proudly now, making me extremely worked up. "let them be suspicious" he said boldly, making my cheeks heat up. he placed his hand on my waist before guiding us out into the more open areas with still the mass floods of people swarmed everywhere.

the next few hours were spent on the dance floor with chris, drinking a lot, and just letting ourselves loose almost as if we were celebrating. it felt like no one else was in the room with us as we danced together, laughing, being slightly intimate, and it was great not having to rethink about my actions since i had gotten the confirmation. his hands would rest upon my hips as i swayed to the music, alcohol was extremely pungent in our breaths whenever we'd speak to each other, but it just enhanced the moment even more.

we took many photos together, from people with professional cameras to spending about fifteen minutes in the photo booth giggling and posing, everything just felt perfect.

third person

"we should probably go find them" nick looked over at matt who was sitting near him on a stool. "our uber is going to be here soon right?"

"yeah, it's going to be hell though looking for them through this" matt narrowed his eyes towards nick, nicks stomach dropping at the look in his eyes. "you didn't let her drink did you?" matt asked with heavy concern, nicks face almost going pale.

"i didn't let her she did on her own" nick lied, slightly afraid of his brother.

"great" matt stood up from the stool and rubbed his mouth, quickly scanning his eyes through the room for any sight of chris and (y/n). "she's with chris though right?" matt asked for slight reassurance, which nick nodded feverishly. "the ubers close let's get them" and they both started to venture through the club.

it wasn't hard to find them, because they were back on the dance floor together and it was as if they were the center of attention. "oh my god" nick mumbled and covered his mouth out of embarrassment. chris and (y/n) were both dancing in a non-embarrassing way, but the way they were slightly touchy with each other almost sent nick through the roof. "did he tell her?" nick gasped next to matt as they both watched.

"yeah he said he was going to tonight" matt couldn't help but to smile at the two. both nick and matt knew that they deserved each other, and finally, it was out.

"well, he shouldn't be doing that here! that's going to get on the media so quick with all these people!" nick slightly panicked and rushed onto the floor, matt following closely behind him. "hey, guys we gotta go" nick spoke quickly, grabbing both (y/n) and chris by their arms and trying to drag them out.

"oh come on, we just got here nick" (y/n) was very drunk, and it had been known once nick got a whiff of her breath and she could barley even stand when he dragged them.

"our uber is going to be here soon, we have to go" nick got stern with the two of them, but each of them refused to go with him and planted their feet as if they were rooted to the ground.

"c'mon just a little longer" chris pleaded, his neck tie hung loose around his neck with his collar open now, looking a bit disheveled from when he first arrived.

"don't tell me you're drunk too" nick rubbed his eyes in a stressful manner, looking over at matt for backup.

"i don't want to go yet" (y/n) crossed her arms like a child and began to step back into the dance floor, but quickly nick grabbed her hand and yanked her back.

"alright," nick tried to drag his friend along once again, but she didn't move. "fine" he let go of her hand and in a few swift movements, she was being thrown over his shoulder and carried out.

"hey!" she giggled loudly and slapped his back as his arm securely held her waist, his other arm dragging chris along. "nicolas!" she cried out, laughing with every single step he took.

"can you take him please" nick handed his brother to matt, and they were quick to move towards the exit. a few photos were being taken of the group causing nick got extreme second hand embarrassment for his intoxicated best friend, hoping she wouldn't remember because he knew how embarrassed she would be.

"nick!" she was consumed with laughter as he irritatedly pushed open the door, the fresh, brisk air nipped at her bare skin as the wind gently blew her hair.

"you are acting crazy!" nick grabbed her waist with both of his hands and set her down gently on the concrete sidewalk. "sober up or you're gonna get in trouble!" nick scolded her quietly through his teeth, almost as if he were parenting her.

"shut up" she crossed her arms with an overly dramatic eye roll, leaving nick in absolute shock.

"you did not just talk back to me" he now jokingly shot back at her, biting his knuckles with raised brows. "please get back over here" he snagged her hand as she started to slightly wonder off away from them.

"where is chris?" (y/n)'s eyes grew extremely sad, her whole entire face now dropping as her lips turned into a frown. "where is he?" she was so unaware of her surroundings, she couldn't even comprehend he was right behind her, standing closer to matt.

"right here, dumbass" nick grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to face the other brothers who was standing behind them.

"don't call me that" (y/n) frowned up towards nick, but was quick to start staring at chris. they locked eyes with each other, trying their best not to smile and giggle with just a gaze. she slowly began to walk towards him and he opened his arms, welcoming her without hesitation.

"you cannot be serious" nick blankly stared at the two, shaking his head with annoyance. "god stop p.d.a. is fucking killing me" he raised his voice with sass, making chris and matt chuckle a little. but (y/n) was just so unaware of her surroundings when she was held in chris's arms, the only thing thing that filled her ear was his heart and muffled voice, as well as the rhythmic pattern of his breathing.

"will we be home soon?" she asked into his chest with worry laced through her voice, which immediately perked all of their senses.

"what's wrong?" matt bent down to face her as she was nuzzled right up against chris's chest.

"i just really need to lay down" she was completely out of it, not even conscious of what she was saying at this point.

"we'll be back soon" matt laughed a little at how drunk she was, and chris was almost about to fall asleep standing up. "i swear they're both nodding off right now" matt placed his hand on chris's back to stabilize him, looking at nick with a bit of concern.

"how great will this be loading them into the car" nick nodded his head at the uber that pulled near to them, matt and nick both engaging with a stressed side eye.

"alright guys here we go" matt pushed chris, who also dragged (y/n) along into the van.

"i'm going to lose my fucking mind" nick rubbed his face while watching his two intoxicated friends slide into the vehicle.

matt sat in between chris and (y/n) in the very back seat, nick stayed in the middle row while both chris and (y/n) were obnoxiously loud. nick kept apologizing to the driver, who said he was quite used to this.

matt reached his arm around (y/n)'s shoulders, seeing that she kept slouching and leaning over to where she couldn't even sit up straight for a second. "get your hands off my girl" chris's words were extremely slurred, almost to the point that matt and nick could barley even make out what he said.

"what?" nick started to laugh back at them, matt now was growing irritated.

"you guys are fucking stupid" matt grumbled, pushing (y/n)'s head back lightly so it wasn't tilting down.

"no we aren't matty b" (y/n) pouted, the car ride quickly making her feel more dizzy than she was before.

"please keep your head up" he held her forehead with his two fingers, both matt and nick exchanging concerning looks.

"don't worry she'll be fine" nick tried waving off matt's worried expression. "it's not her first time around" nick rolled his eyes and looked back at the road. "we are not taking care of them when we get back"

"but nick-" matt's concerned voice was cut off instantly.

"they did this to themselves" nick was clearly agitated, but he didn't actually mean that. he would die for the both of them if he had to.

chapter 4?? ;)

#fem reader #fanfic #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #chris #chris sturiolo fanfic #series

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